Face to Face
by punkydiva17
Summary: *Story Completed* Sequel to "I Walk Alone". Mira Barrera is stuck managing John Cena. After everything that happened between the two of them, will they be able to put it aside?
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

**WrestleMania - 24 hours ago**

_He watched John Cena trudge out of the locker room, the thoroughly defeated look still on his face. He had to smirk; this guy just did not get it. It took guts to walk away from a guy after he just professed his feelings to you on the beach, in the rain, under probably the most romantic setting imaginable. _

_And she did it. That only told him one thing._

_John Cena wasn't somebody that she was into. And look at him. Why would she be? He was a thug. And thugs had a tendency to use and abuse. She didn't deserve that. She'd had enough of that with Brock Lesnar, with Randy Orton. _

_With a deep breath, he approached her locker room and knocked on the door. _

_**A recap of the finale of I Walk Alone, for those just tuning in...**_

_Mira stood, holding the chair, a sick smile plastered against her face as Randy Orton slowly made it to his feet. He slowly made his way towards her, too, but she turned around and she wailed him with one hell of a chair shot. With both men down, she climbed up the ladder and obtained both the championship and her contract. _

_She climbed back down the ladder and jumped off from the third to last rung before exiting the ring. The crowd was booing, throwing cups of soda at her, obviously reading on the Internet the apparently budding relationship between her and John Cena._

_Suddenly, "I Walk Alone" by Saliva blared through the arena and Batista walked down the ramp. Turning to him, she handed him the World Heavyweight Championship, and raised his hand high in the air as John Cena and Randy Orton both looked on in a state of shock and disbelief. Turning Batista to him - just to drive the nails into their coffins, she pressed her lips to Batista's in a long kiss that broke Cena's heart for every second that it lasted. _

_They pulled away from each other and turned to the two men in the ring and laughed as Mira was grazed by a pop can. "Think we should give them another round to really hate us?" Batista whispered in her ear. She nodded and kissed him again. When they pulled away this time, he raised her arm and they disappeared backstage, the camera focusing in on John Cena's devastated face as WrestleMania went off the air._


	2. A whole New Slate

**Chapter One: A Whole New Slate**

Randy Orton was leaned against the doorframe to the workout area, dressed in a "Fully Evolved" T-shirt and his blue trunks. He was watching John Cena pummeling the hell out of a punching bag, each shot swinging the bag roughly into the white brick walls.

Randy couldn't help but smirk. Mira actually had it in her to do the one thing he never thought she would do: turn on the one who loves her. It was no secret; over the last several months, The Doctor of Thuganomics had fallen head over heels for Mira Barerra, for all the reasons that he had: she was beautiful, she was smart, and obviously, she was a good actress.

He walked over to the punching bag and held it as Cena delivered another hard right hand to the black bag, causing it to rock. "Wow. Who's head is that?" Randy joked.

"Batista's."

Randy smirked. "You know, it's not entirely his fault."

"I know, but my mom taught me never to hit a woman." Another hard right hand connected to the punching bag. Randy Orton smirked; his mom had taught him the same thing, but it's not like he ever used that advice. Stacy Keibler and Fabulous Moolah would be able to attest to that. "I can't believe this shit, man." He stopped punching and Randy helped him untie the gloves. "You see this coming?"

"No," Orton replied with a smirk. "I seriously didn't think she had something like that in her."

"Well, she did," he replied. "She played us both for a bunch of idiots," he replied.

"Well, you know what tonight is," Randy replied.

"What's that?"

"Tonight's the night that Mira comes out and explains to the world why she turned on you in such a fashion," he replied. Cena scoffed.

"Not if I get out there and rip them apart," he snarled. He grabbed a Chain Gang Assault Battalion T-shirt and slid it on over his head before storming out of the locker room.

Mira Barerra entered the arena the night after WrestleMania with a new bounce in her step. A more liberated bounce. Everybody knew what that bounce meant. Stephanie had it the night after she turned on her father, Trish the night after Jericho, Lita the night after Kane. It was the liberated bounce of a full-fledged heel Diva. Which was a concept that Mira was still toying with slightly.

It slightly bothered her; her friends were looking at her in a new way. Torrie, Maria and Victoria were ignoring her, and even Candice - for all the stuff that Candice has ever done - was even refusing to make eye contact with her. She was officially the most hated woman on Raw.

**"Mira, come here for a second!" Lita called out. She was dressed in a Rated R Superstar overshirt, black bikini top and camoflauge pants. She was standing with Melina, who was in her usual halter top and miniskirt combination. Mira shot a look of concern at Batista, who motioned for her to go talk to them.**

**"I'll meet you in the locker room," he told her. She nodded and slowly approached the Divas.**

**"What a finish!" they exploded when she approached. "That was incredible!"**

**"You hit Cena - and Orton - and you got to choose the new World Heavyweight Champion!" Melina gushed. "That is like the most awesome WrestleMania moment ever!"**

**"Thanks," Mira murmured, but she wasn't incredibly enthused over it. Lita noticed this.**

**"Um, Melina, can you let me talk to Mira for a few minutes in private?" Lita asked. Melina nodded and walked away, slightly insulted but understanding at the same time. "You okay?"**

**"Yeah. Just better hope Cena doesn't come charging through that curtain anytime soon," she replied. Lita took the hint and led her into the Divas locker room.**

**"Wow," Lita said after a long silence. "I always thought you had balls, but that...that just proved it."**

**"I am officially the most hated woman on this roster, Lita. I don't know if I like that," Mira confessed.**

**"Oh, the fans will get over it. And you'll learn - pissing off the fans is a thousand times better than trying to make them all like you. Anyway, Cena...No. You upgraded, girl, and I must say you made a fine choice." **

**Mira laughed. "You think so?"**

**"Here's some heel advice - Diva to Diva - never under any circumstances have any regrets or guilt about anything. Let it go. Did it feel right to do that?"**

**"I don't know," she admitted. "It's just...how on earth am I supposed to trust Cena not to keep my contract? Look at the way he's been the last few months! I don't want to be stuck with him! I don't want him to smother me like he's been doing!" She put her head in her hands. "I just wanted to be friends...think I killed it?"**

**"Yeah. Well, that's good. At least Cena has a new one to pick on." She groaned. "Don't worry about it. No regrets, okay?" Mira nodded and just decided to accept the fact that Lita didn't get it. She arched her spine and nodded.**

**"Damn right. No regrets."**

Mira entered Batista's locker room. She had chosen a new, more outrageous style of outfit consisting of a black halter dress that had a neckline that dipped down to her belly button, her chest way out in the top. She had done her makeup gothic-like and tousled her hair. She looked every bit the part of the fallen angel.

She closed the door softly behind her. "Dave?" she called out. She turned around and wheeled into him, allowing a slight shriek to escape her ruby lips. He chuckled and she smiled, chuckling as well.

"What's up?"

"I don't know if I can do this," she confessed. "The other girls...they're not even looking at me. They're my friends..."

"No. They're your friends when the fans like you. When the fans hate you, that's when they don't want any part of you." He ran his hands over her shoulders and down her arms. It gave her a slight thrill. "Man, you look hot tonight," he smirked and gave her a kiss on the cheek. "You ready for the big explanation tonight?"

"I don't know if I can do this, Dave," she replied, her eyes staring up at him wide.

"Don't worry about it," he assured her. But he knew what she was afraid of. She was afraid of facing him after this. Because there really wasn't much reason for her to do what she had done to him. She'd had to sit up all the previous night and think. There were several things, but nothing that would ever reason what she did and she knew it.

But in her heart she felt like she needed a change. And, quite frankly, John Cena's affection for her frightened her.

But things weren't like that with Batista. They both knew what this was. It was a way to ensure he kept the championship that he technically never lost, and it was her way to ensure her freedom. It was a casual relationship, no strings attached, no feelings invested. Anyway, it was no secret that Batista was a ladies man in the back. He wasn't bad to the extent of Randy Orton, but he was open with the fact that he was weighing all of his options. One woman he was seeing on the regular in particular was a Diva Search reject from the 2005 class. She was pretty sure it was Kristal, but for all she knew it could have been Summer or Elisabeth.

She was already smiling, thinking about the day when some poor soul would come and spare her the pain of Batista's "cheating ways". Actually, since she was considered a heel now, she was pretty sure nobody was going to come to her rescue. Especially John Cena. She was absolutely sure he hated her now, and it filled her with a sense of relief. She didn't want to invest too much into him to have him stab her in the back like the others.

A sense of calm washed over her. It felt good to be the one to do the backstabbing this time around. She was tired of being the one to be stabbed in the back.

She thought about Stephanie McMahon, who had been toyed with by her father so much, that when she turned, even though the fans hated her, it was understood. Same with Trish Stratus. One could only play the victim for so long. And this time, Mira Barerra refused to play the victim anymore.

"Mira?"

She snapped out of her reverie and turned to Batista. "It's time to go," he informed her. She nodded, he wrapped an arm over her shoulder and they left together.

The fans went insane as the thousands of pyrotechnical cues went off to mark the beginning of Monday night Raw. There were signs that read Why, Mira, Why, and the crowd popped immensely when John Cena's theme started off. He trudged out, riled up, pissed off, walking straight to the ring without even acknowledging his loyal Chain Gang.

He slid into the ring and grabbed a microphone. "Stop my music right now," he snarled, and his music abruptly ended. "I know y'all saw that bullshit that went down at WrestleMania last night. Mira, Batista, I want both your asses out here right now, we gonna settle this right now!"

Meanwhile, Mira and Batista were watching this backstage. He had ruined the segment; it was supposed to be the two of them to start the show off. She took a deep breath and Batista gave her a reassuring pat on the back. "You gonna be okay?" he asked.

"I think so," she replied. She could hear the music start outside, in the arena area and hear the fans negative ovation.

"You ready to go?" he asked. She nodded.

_Mira is about to face Cena for the first time since WrestleMania. How will it play out? Tune in..._


	3. It's Over?

**Chapter Two: It's Over?**

_Meanwhile, Mira and Batista were watching this backstage. He had ruined the segment; it was supposed to be the two of them to start the show off. She took a deep breath and Batista gave her a reassuring pat on the back. "You gonna be okay?" he asked._

_"I think so," she replied. She could hear the music start outside, in the arena area and hear the fans negative ovation._

_"You ready to go?" he asked. She nodded._

Cena couldn't help it; she looked so damn hot in that outfit. But when he saw Batista leading her out, it made his temper boil. But the way she was standing, her body language...it wasn't exactly the body language of a Diva who had no regrets for what she had done. What was going on?

"Hey, Cena," Batista replied with a wide grin on his face. John's features marred into an ugly snarl. "I thought we'd save you the hunt, come on out, you know, before you get whiny and hold the show hostage." Cena was already pulling off his shirt and motioning for Batista to come down to the ring.

"Why wait to kick your ass till the next pay-per-view?" Cena demanded, "when I can kick your ass right now?"

Batista began to make his way down the ramp, but Mira grabbed him and held him back. He turned to her, mystified, and Cena was even a little mystified. "Not worth it," she told him, putting on her best tough girl demeanor.

"Oh, what's the matter, big guy?" Cena taunted, "Super Slut holding you back?"

She turned around sharply, stung by the harsh words. She understood they were founded; after all, she had used such terminology on Candice and Randy, but it didn't mean it still didn't hurt. She took the microphone from Batista.

"What's the matter, big guy?" she taunted back, "can't handle rejection very well?" With a firm hand, she held Batista back, and even Cena was surprised at how much her demeanor changed under the arena lights.

"Let's get one thing straight - you screwed yourself. I mean, how dare you put my contract on the line in a match where I have to be caged in like some animal? I mean, you didn't have to agree to it. I should have had a say as to how I was going to spend my WrestleMania, did you ever think of that? No, of course not. Instead, you treat me like I'm some commodity to be gambled upon, and how do you think that makes me feel...well, that's assuming you even cared, considering it was just phone call after phone call after phone call..."

The tape cues went up.

"Mira, what's good? Cena here. Just wanted to make sure you're okay..."

Cena's eyes bugged out and his face flushed as she began to play all the messages over the loudspeakers to the fans. He stared at her, and she even looked surprsied by the tapes. When it finally stopped - it seemed like an eternity - she went back to her seemingly endless tirade. "Didn't you think at about call ten by two o'clock in the afternoon that you were getting borderline stalker-esque, or did that just seem to pass you by?

"You smother me, Cena, even after I asked you to stay out of my life. So don't go around, playing the victim about last night at WrestleMania. The fact of the matter is I found somebody that didn't think it was right what both you and Randy Orton were doing, and that is Batista."

The loud echoes of the word "Slut" reverberated throughout the arena. She smiled; Lita was right. It was kind of cool not having to impress anybody.

"I think they're chanting your name, sweetheart," Cena told her, smiling. She scowled at him.

"At least they chant my name, sweetheart," she replied back, and it stung Cena momentarily. It was no secret the fans hadn't exactly been on his page for the last little while. But he was already so angry about the phone clips, he didn't care. "And now, the Champ..." she put emphasis on the word champ to make him wince, "and I are going to go backstage and enjoy a wonderful night of Monday Night Raw, Cena free." Instead of Batista's theme playing, though, Vince McMahon's played and she felt a sudden urge of nervousness pass over her.

Vince strutted out in only a way described as the Mr. McMahon strut, and he put the microphone to his lips. "Hold on, I make the decisions around here," he roared. "Tonight, I am going to call out a tag team match. It will be Batista and Mira Barerra against John Cena and Candice Michelle."

Cena studied her face, and saw no fear. She probably wanted to get her hands on Candice. As long as she lived, she would probably never forgive Candice for causing the breakup of her and Randy Orton. She shot a hard look at Cena before retreating to the backstage area with Batista in tow.

"Son of a bitch!" she snapped. "I can't believe he called me a slut!"

"Now, Mira," Batista said to her, "you knew he'd be upset. Anyway, I thought you wanted him to hate you."

"Who the hell was behind the audio clips?" she demanded. "Who got a hold of those messages? Fuck, I'm not out to humiliate him! I did that enough last night!"

"You know for a heel, you sure have an impeccable conscience," he informed her. "You hot for him or something?"

"No!" she replied indignantly. "But I don't think it was right to use phone clips. That sort of thing is private." She gathered her things. "I gotta go get ready for the match."

"You mad at me or something?"

"Not at you, but whoever managed to tap into my phone line is going to die," she murmured, slamming the door behind her.

**She answered the door and was stunned to find Dave Batista standing before her. "Dave?" she asked. "What's up? What are you doing here?"**

**"Thought I would come and make a proposal to you prior to your match tonight," he replied, walking suavely into her locker room. She slowly closed the door behind him. **

**"A proposal?" she asked. He nodded and she sat down across from him. "What kind of a proposal?"**

**"I want my championship back," he replied. "And I know that you don't want your contract owned by either of those men..."**

**"Cena told me that when he wins it, he gets the title, I get my contract..."**

**"But can you really trust that?" he asked. She stopped, staring at him oddly. "After all, you've seen how he's been. Calling you non-stop, that escapade on the beach. When he gets you in his clutches, do you really think that he's just going to hand you your contract back and say, 'See you later?' You know better than that. Look at him! He's lost all reasoning, all comprehension. He's a loose cannon."**

**She stared at him oddly. She understood where he was going, though. He was right. Cena was definitely in a desperate mood as of late. "So what are you proposing?" she asked. **

**"I am proposing that we put on a little ruse," he told her. "You and I act like we're paired, I get the title, you get your contract, and we topple the Raw brand. How does that sound?"**

**"What about Cena?"**

**"Well, he'll be a little mad for a while, but he'll get over it if he's so in love with you."**

**"I don't know, Dave," she replied, "it doesn't seem right."**

**"With their actions as of late, do you think you should be betting your future on them?"**

**"No..."**

"What are those marks on your forehead?"

"Huh?" Mira looked up to see John Cena, smirking. "What marks?"

"Oh, my bad, they're from the ten foot poles the guys have been touching you with."

"Oh, I thought I saw your initials this morning." He smirked, and she even had to smirk. "How are you feeling?"

He stared at her, trying to figure out whether or not she was serious. "You hit me with a chair and cost me the championship. How do you think I'm feeling?"

"About as good as you look," she answered airily. "I'll see you out in the ring." She walked away down the hall leaving him to wonder just what was going on with her. God, he still wanted her so bad. He was momentarily hypnotized by the way her hips swayed as she walked down the hallway with a little bounce in her step. He would do anything for her, and he hated himself for feeling that. But he couldn't help it. He just stood, and shook his head.

"What's up?"

He looked up to see Candice Michelle, dressed in her gear already - a baby blue corset and black booty shorts, covered by a black robe. Her coffee dark hair fell down around her tiny face in large waves. "Nothing," he replied.

"You lie about as good as you wrestle," she told him. He laughed.

"You're one to talk," he replied.

"Come on, fess up," she replied. "It's Lady Mira isn't it?" Lady Mira was her term of affection for Mira, who she thought was too prim and proper for her own good.

He smirked. "Lady Mira," he replied. "You may hate her, but you fucked up her life first," he informed her. Candice pouted. "You ready to go?"

"Yeah, I guess," she replied. They walked down the hallway together.

_Mixed tag team action in chapter three._


	4. Brewing Problems

**Chapter Three: Brewing Problems**

_He smirked. "Lady Mira," he replied. "You may hate her, but you fucked up her life first," he informed her. Candice pouted. "You ready to go?"_

_"Yeah, I guess," she replied. They walked down the hallway together._

"The Time is Now" began to play and John Cena walked out with Candice, who was strutting her stuff on the ramp. Cena only walked past her, his gaze locked on the ring. He didn't care if Mira beat the hell out of Candice; hell, he wasn't too sure if he minded all that much. For some reason, that Lady Mira comment sure pissed him off. He didn't even care if he lost the match tonight. Tonight's match wasn't about that, though. He just wanted Batista's face connected to his fist. That's all he wanted. Mira and Candice were merely afterthoughts.

Orton was right; she had to take some of the blame. After all, it takes two to tango. But if she felt like she needed to do this, then she needed to do it. Batista shouldn't have capitalized on her confusion the way he did, and he knew it just as much as Batista did. She was still being civil to him; so she didn't hate him, she just hated the way he was acting and he got that. He couldn't understand why he was acting the way he was acting, either. It seemed so desperate, so... stalkeresque.

He remembered the phone clips playing at the beginning of the night, and he was so embarassed that somebody had the balls to do that. Not only just embarassment, but sheer hatred over the situation. It was getting too complicated. He was sure it was Mira who posted the clips, but he wasn't sure; she did look pretty fazed when it cued up. It had to be Mira, he reasoned; after all, it was her phone. Who else would have access to it?

Maybe Batista during one of their rendezvous...

Stop. He hit himself in the head as he paced around the ring. He had kept such tabs on her that it was no way possible that she couldn't make that sort of appointment until after the beach escapade, and even then, when would she have the time for that? Something just wasn't fitting right about the newfound "relationship" of Mira Barerra and Dave Batista, and Cena - unbeknownst to his knoweldge - wasn't the only one that saw it.

"I Walk Alone" began to play and Mira walked out, side by side with Batista. Mira let Batista do his flexing at the top of the ramp and she walked down the ramp towards Candice Michelle, a wide smile on her face. After the public breakup of her and Randy Orton, everybody wanted to see her get her hands on Candice, and now that it was going to happen it didn't seem all that important; it was overshadowed by the fact that twenty-four hours before she had beaten down both John Cena and Randy Orton - a very admirable feat.

She locked eyes with John Cena and she could sense that tortured, pained expression resonating from those beautiful blue eyes. She smirked as though she laughed at his pain and the pain on his face was quickly replaced by a devilish snarl. She climbed into the ring, and before she could complete her entrance, Candice blindsided her. The referee called for the bell to ring and it did, the match getting underway almost instantly.

With Mira down at the ropes, Candice proceeded to kick her repeatedly, catcalling her. Cena hated it; he didn't want her to get hurt. And it was mixed tag team, which meant it could go free-for-all. If Candice got cocky with Batista, then he could Batista Bomb her. It was legal. Didn't mean the referee liked it, but it was all legal. It also meant that Cena could stick Mira in the STFU and make her tap out until she screamed for mercy. But he didn't want to do that, and if it killed him, if she hit him, he wasn't going to do it.

Candice got cocky while Mira was still down on the floor and she bounced over and tagged John Cena. "She's all yours, baby," she cooed. Mira brought herself to her feet, holding her ribs. She turned around and both she and Cena had a good old-fashioned face off in the middle of the ring.

"You want to hit me, don't you?" she replied harshly. "I tell you what. Hit me. Put me in the FU. Make me tap. Come on."

He was stunned by the way that she taunted him. He shook his head. "Go tag your boy," Cena told her. "I want him."

"You think this is all his fault?" she asked. "Fuck, Cena, I'm to blame, too. You should hate me just as much. You should want to bash my brains in..."

"Get his ass in here right now," he informed her, his voice still that eerie level of calm. She was so frustrated that she lunged at him and he scooped her up on his shoulders into the FU position and trudged with her struggling on his shoulders over to Batista. "Tag her," he snarled. Batista patted her spine and Cena dropped her as Batista leveled him with a clothesline.

She sat in the corner, trying to regain her bearings, floored. Why wouldn't he hit her? Why couldn't he just hate her and make their lives more easier? Spare each other this kind of pain and replace it with a sheer bloodlust for violence. She rolled over under the bottom rope and out of the ring to catch her breath as Batista dominated John Cena in the ring. Batista played up to the crowd and the camera kept focusing on her, and she didn't know who she wanted to cheer for. She just didn't want to cheer. She fucked things up, and she fucked things up bad, and by her situation, she knew that things weren't going to get better, they were only going to get worse.

Backstage, Stephanie, Shane, Linda and Vince McMahon were all watching the show, floored by Mira's actions as of late. This was not the sweet, caring, helpless being that they had once branded the next Miss Elizabeth. Now, they watched her as she stood at ringside, biting her lip, unsure of herself.

"I think this shit with Batista's a sham," Vince scoffed.

"How do you figure?" Stephanie asked.

"Her tongue hasn't been down his throat nearly enough tonight," Shane piped up. "Edge and Lita anyone?" They nodded.

"Not only that," Vince replied, "with all the stuff going down with the Undertaker, where did she have the time when John Cena was saving her ass?" They nodded.

"I can't believe she would do such a thing to John Cena," Stephanie replied. "She never seemed like the type."

"Made a hell of a WrestleMania moment though," Shane said. They all had to nod in agreement.

"I think we should keep pushing her to Cena," she replied.

"What do you have in mind?"

_The McMahons see through Mira's little ploy. So what does this mean for Mira?_


	5. Angry Thoughts

**Chapter Four: Angry Thoughts**

_"I think we should keep pushing her to Cena," she replied. _

_"What do you have in mind?"_

Mira sat in her locker room, flabbergasted. She was so sure he was going to hit her with the FU. Up on his shoulders, she was expecting that time-stilling moment as he crashed her down to the mat. She would have been relieved to know that he hated her, and it would all be over with a simple crash to the canvas. No more guilt, no more pain, no more anything than just a clear all out feud based in violence.

But he didn't. Instead, he just walked over to Batista like she weighed nothing and forced the tag.

She wanted to cry. What was it going to take to make him hate her and leave her alone? She didn't want to be with him. Well, she did, but she didn't want him to know that. The last thing that she needed was to be in the same type of relationships she had been forced to endure with Brock and Randy. Where titles and other women were more important at the end of the day than trying to make something work. It was the last thing that she needed.

She realized the power that the championship belt had over everybody. It made Triple H turn on Randy Orton, it made Brock Lesnar F5 her. And it made Batista stab his best friend in the back by making a pact with his...what was she? She wasn't exactly his best friend, but she wasn't his girlfriend either. She wasn't sure.

Batista walked into her locker room. They had won the match after Batista and Cena brawled out of the arena, leaving Mira to hit Candice with a facebuster for the win. It felt so good slamming Candice's face into the mat. It would have felt even better to have the fans cheering for her out and out over it, but that was something she wasn't going to get for a long time. Not after this. Hell, Lita and Edge still weren't living down the whole triangle escapade they had endured a year and a half before.

"What's on your mind, Mira?" Batista's voice chimed into her thoughts. She stared up at him. He had gotten cut up slightly from Cena's fists.

"Oh, nothing," she replied. He left it at that.

That kind of bothered her. Something was bothering her. She was feeling a crippling sense of guilt for doing what she did to John Cena, and he didn't care. Of course not, she thought bitterly, he has the World Heavyweight Championship hung over his shoulder. He learned from Triple H - that you only give a damn about one thing in this business - keeping that championship around your waist. The women, the people who helped you, they mean nothing. She knew this, and she was fully aware of this when she teamed up with him, so she didn't understand why it made her so unhappy now.

Meanwhile, the McMahons were together in the board room at headquarters. Triple H was there as well, followed by Shawn Michaels and Maria. They were seated around the roundtable in the headquarters main office, trying to give Cena and Mira what they felt they really wanted - each other.

"Cena's devastated," Maria replied. "Should we really be shoving this in his face repeatedly like this?"

"Nonsense, Maria," Vince replied, poring over the papers that cluttered the table. "Are you really buying this 'I'm in love with Batista' stuff?"

"To be fair, she never has stated she was in love with Batista," Maria said. Vince and Stephanie shot knowing glances at each other, a widening smile crossing both their faces.

"Why, Maria, you are absolutely right," Stephanie replied. "She never has."

"Okay, what are you guys getting at?" Triple H asked.

In the meantime, Mira was walking to her car all by herself, Batista wanting to stay around a flirt a little more with the Diva Search rejects. That kind of bothered her, but she still didn't understand why. She knew what exactly kind of arrangement this was. He provided her with the solitary life she so desperately clung to if he got the World title back around his waist.

Backlash was in two weeks. John Cena wasn't invoking his rematch clause just yet, but the McMahon family had instated a triple threat match for the championship since WrestleMania was unfair. John Cena vs. Randy Orton vs. Batista, and this time, Mira was actually banned from ringside. She had to sit back and watch her deal with Batista unravel and that scared her. Batista seemed to understand, though; it wasn't her fault. She wasn't a Corporate Suit anymore. She didn't miss it at all.

She was tired. She just wanted to go back to her hotel room and get some sleep. She pulled open her trunk and dropped her duffel bag inside, slamming it shut. She turned around and looked into the empty parking lot, a strange wave of paranoia washing over her like a bucket of water. She shook it off, and climbed into the driver's seat before peeling out of the arena parking lot, driving away into the night.

_McMahons are scheming. It's all going to go down after Backlash, so what is their plan?_


	6. 6 Days Until Backlash

**Chapter Five: Six Days Until Backlash**

_She was tired. She just wanted to go back to her hotel room and get some sleep. She pulled open her trunk and dropped her duffel bag inside, slamming it shut. She turned around and looked into the empty parking lot, a strange wave of paranoia washing over her like a bucket of water. She shook it off, and climbed into the driver's seat before peeling out of the arena parking lot, driving away into the night._

She entered the arena, hand-in-hand with Batista. She had to admit, he looked really good in his suit and dark shades. She even went out and bought a pair of shades for herself; after all, they needed to look similar to one another. He had his duffel bag slung over his shoulder, and Mira carried the World Heavyweight Championship on her shoulder. She had decided to take a classier approach that night, even though it didn't matter. They would still brand her a slut, whether or not she was dressed in nothing or a burlap sack. But she - on the insistence of Batista - had chosen to dress up in a pinstripe suit to match him.

They walked through the parking lot in silence, and their eyes were both focused on the door ahead...

...Wham!

Batista was blindsided by John Cena, knocking Mira into the wall. She hit her head and slunk to the floor as John Cena and Batista began trading punches back and forth.

Mira felt a throbbing pain in the back of her head, and her hand flew to the back of her head in shock. Cena had crashed into her. He had lost his mind! "Dave -" she called out, in an effortless plea to stop the fight. "Guys - stop!" she cried out. "Wait until Backlash, stop -!" She watched in sheer horror as Batista grabbed Cena by the back of his neck and threw him through the driver's side window of a car. Mira screamed upon the impact and she stood up, trying to rush over to see if Cena was okay, but Batista grabbed her.

"Let's go," he snarled.

"Oh, my God," she whispered. He was dragging her away, and she was turning to face him. "Somebody's gotta help him!"

"You know, for somebody that agreed to be in this situation, you sure act as though you care about him. Stop it." She bit her lower lip as Cena slunk to the ground, the blood oozing down his face, comingling with the shards of broken glass.

"I got here as soon as I could," Shane O'Mac replied, entering the trainer's room. He almost didn't make it; the flight was almost delayed. He saw Torrie Wilson sitting with John Cena as he was being stitched. "What the hell happened?"

"That bitch Batista, that's what happened!" Cena snapped. "He threw me through a window."

"But you attacked him, weren't you saying?" he asked.

"Didn't mean he should have attempted murder on my ass!" he snapped.

"What about Mira?"

"What about her?" Cena demanded. "She tried to get me some help, but he dragged her off."

"She tried to help you out?" Shane asked, incredulous.

"Well, I did go face-first through Orton's car." Shane nodded; you had to be a really cold being to ignore somebody in that predicament. Mira, he knew could never be that cold.

"I wanted to tell you that after Backlash, we're going to be giving you a manager," he replied. "Just somebody to look out for your best interests personally and professionally."

"Is Slick coming in?" he asked. It was an internet rumor that they were going to bring in a legendary figure to manage him.

"No. We're still trying to narrow down the candidates, though, so you'll know by Monday." He nodded. "You gonna be okay to fight in the main event?"

"I want that bitch," he snarled. Shane nodded and looked at Torrie.

"Nice to see his intensity is intact." Torrie nodded, a slight smirk crossing her face. "I'll see you all Sunday. I need to go and speak with our champion about rules." They nodded.

Batista opened the door to find Shane McMahon and he rolled his eyes. "What do you want?"

"We need to talk," Shane replied, walking into the room. He noticed one particular absence and asked, "Where's Mira?"

"Who knows? Who cares?" Batista asked.

"Well, that's a lovely attitude to have since she's the only reason you're wearing that championship," Shane replied. "I'm amazed Dad even let her get away with that. But you know Dad, a sucker for a great WrestleMania moment. And she did just that."

"What the hell is your point, Shane?" Batista snapped. He was in no mood to deal with Shane McMahon at this given moment.

"The Board will be preparing your suspension papers for throwing Cena through a window like that."

"How do you figure it was me?" Batista replied.

"Cena said it was you and we're pretty sure that even though Mira's teamed with you, she's not going to lie for you. Especially after seeing her white knight go through a window like that."

Batista's tune changed instantly. "He shouldn't have attacked me."

"What do you think he would have done?" Shane asked. "Let it slide? You took his girl and his title in one night."

"She's not his girl."

"Obviously not," Shane replied. "So how did you do it? How did you manage to make her let go of Cena and come running to you?"

"That's none of your damn business," he snapped. Shane smirked.

"Okay, then, Batista," Shane replied, realizing it was in his best interest to just throw in the towel. "Have yourself a nice night, and uh, good luck at Backlash on Sunday."

Stephanie McMahon sat with Mira in a skybox as the show progressed. She was staring out the window, quiet, watching the matches below. Stephanie was staring at Mira curiously. "You look a little bothered," Stephanie replied. "Anything you want to talk about?"

"No."

"Is it about Cena getting hurt tonight?"

She sighed. Stephanie was a McMahon, and they didn't know when to quit. "I wanted to check on him so bad." There was a long, awkward silence. "Is he okay?"

"He's got about ten stitches in his forehead from the collision, but he's up and anxious for Backlash."

Mira sighed. "Great. I guess I should warn Batista."

"No point. He's officially suspended for sixty days after Backlash. You can't just go around doing that to whoever you want. Cena's been fined for the attack."

"Well, that seems fair," Mira scoffed.

"Well, Batista isn't sporting ten stitches in his head and ten pounds of glass in his clothing." Mira exhaled; she was right. "So what does this mean for me? I'm back in singles competition?"

"I think Dad has something planned for you. Don't quote me on it, though." Mira nodded.

"Terrific."

"You still care for Cena?"

"No!" she said vehemently. "I wish he'd just disappear. Doesn't mean that I want to see him get hurt; I just want him to go away." She shook her head. "Nobody seems to get the fact that he just called non-stop and he was just always there. I couldn't be alone. Instead, it's poor Cena, poor Cena..."

"You don't really buy that," Stephanie told her.

"Buy what?"

"That you're the victim. You didn't have to hit Cena with a chair."

"Why did he have to pick me?" she asked.

"Why shouldn't he have picked you?" Stephanie asked. "Mira, any girl alive would dream of being on that man's arm. And I know you do."

"I am on the arm of Raw's hottest champion," Mira retorted.

"You're a figurehead and you know it," Stephanie said. "You should have seen the way he was flirting with the other Divas last week. It was disgusting!" She searched Mira's face for a sign of pain, but didn't see it.

"Flirting is flirting," Mira replied coolly. "Nothing more, nothing less."

"Ah, that sounds like the naive Mira Barerra we all know and love," Stephanie replied.

"Why are you trying to rattle my cage?"

"Why did you do what you did at WrestleMania?"

"Why do you keep pushing this issue?"

"Why aren't you answering my question?"

Mira smirked. This was going nowhere, and they both knew it. "I'm with Batista. You can all get over it because that's the way it's going to be."

Stephanie smiled that vindictive McMahon smile. "Suit yourself," Stephanie replied, dropping the subject. "I'll let the big guy know you're up here." She thought she saw a glimpse of hesitation, but Mira just shrugged and went back to watching the matches unfolding in the ring.

Stephanie was surprised. There was just no shaking her.

_Backlash on Sunday. Tune in._


	7. Backlash

_Thank you so much to Hello-mrs.-rita for the review. It's the reviews and the feedback that keep me going. Means a lot. Thanks._

**Chapter Six: Backlash**

_Stephanie smiled that vindictive McMahon smile. "Suit yourself," Stephanie replied, dropping the subject. "I'll let the big guy know you're up here." She thought she saw a glimpse of hesitation, but Mira just shrugged and went back to watching the matches unfolding in the ring. _

_Stephanie was surprised. There was just no shaking her. _

Game time.

Batista and Mira stood behind the curtain, listening to "The Time Is Now" as John Cena completed his entrance. He was the underdog, the fan favorite, the one that everybody wanted to see win the championship on this night.

Dressed in a scarlet halter dress with a sheer midriff, she took a deep breath and did a few light jumps in her heels to get her cardio going. She was always like this before game time. She loved it. The screaming fans, the lights, she just wanted this night to be over. She wished they weren't pushing this Cena and Batista stuff so roughly. She wanted to just be over with it. But, Cena and Batista were the two top guys in the company, and pushing them into a feud seemed almost natural.

She heard the power chords strum up for Batista's theme and she plastered a sick smile on her face. She hadn't really spoken to Dave since Monday, when he rammed Cena's head through the car. She was just so confused. Christ, it was getting so that she didn't really know what she wanted anymore. Well, she knew what she wanted, she just didn't want to admit it.

He held open the curtain door for her, and let the show roll.

John Cena loved the dress. Loved seeing her in it. He loved how one hand was placed on her hip as she swung her way out to the top of the ramp. She stayed a few steps forward of Batista the whole time, and he just flexed and leaned on the ramp, his pyrotechnics going off. But she kept going, not even going into the ring. Of course she couldn't, because as the pyrotechnics fell, John Cena charged Batista up the ramp and they began trading punches. This wasn't going to be a match; this was going to be a violent brawl, and that was where the two men were good. Cena wanted vengeance; he had lost his title opportunity and in his mind a potential girlfriend. He wanted Batista's blood for the ten stitches he was sporting in his forehead and everything he had endured in the last four weeks. He was ready for war.

Mira kept her distance, not even bothering to do anything more than cheer for Batista. She could hear the catcalls of "Slut" and "You Screwed Cena" behind her. It was the "Slut" one that was bothering her more, because Cena had actually called her that. So she knew that she had hurt him, because he would never talk to a Diva like that. Not even to Candice.

The brawl made its way into the ring and the referee finally rang the bell, which meant the match had officially started, even though Cena and Batista had been punishing each other outside for five minutes. Cena's stitches were already ripped and he was starting to bleed violently, causing Mira to fight the concern creeping over her. She can't be concerned about him, especially not at ringside, where she was supposed to be some "Jezebel" in the eyes of Jim Ross and the fans. Narrowing her eyes, she turned on the fans and argued with some middle-aged balding idiot in the front row who thought that Cena was the greatest thing since Hulk Hogan. She raised her hand to him and dismissed him, orbiting the ring to each screaming fan's delight; that way, this time around she would actually hear what they had to say to her. Some of them, if they were on the other side of the barricade, she would have slapped their teeth out. She slapped her hands along the ring apron in support for Batista, who had a headlock locked in on him in the middle of the ring by Cena. "Ba-tis-ta!" she was chanting. "Come on!"

But things weren't to get any better for the champion. Batista battled out with a counter suplex, but Cena reversed the Irish whip and hit him with the flying shoulder block and the Five Knuckle Shuffle. She should have reached out and grabbed his foot - she even caught the surprise of her allowing him to get away with it, but she thought she had done enough damage. Anyway, since getting that championship back, Batista had changed. And not for the better. And she hated it. She hated the twinges of jealousy when he didn't stick to the plan, she hated the idea that probably nobody bought her ploy and just saw it as her running away from her problems.

She was scared to feel anything for John Cena. She hated the idea of him calling her every twenty minutes to make sure she was okay. She saw Batista set up Cena for the Batista Bomb and her heart leapt into her throat. The puddles of Cena's blood in the middle of the ring made her want to be sick. All she wanted was to be left alone. She didn't want this.

She felt a weird sense of relief wash over her when Cena somehow managed to counter it into a DDT. Both men were down for the count, and she was willing Batista back to his feet. Or was she really? In her mind, she was flashing back and forth between both men. She had nothing against Cena, and she had nothing against Batista, and she just wanted them to be okay. She was lamenting the fact that she had even agreed to Batista's deal. It just seemed like the perfect escape at the time.

Cena rolled over on top, an arm draped over Batista and the referee counted to two. Batista kicked out and Mira breathed a sigh of relief. Her stomach was doing dances.

This was just getting too complicated.

At the end of the night, Cena had won the championship back when Batista tapped out to the STFU. With Cena in the back getting his stitches repaired, Batista was ignoring Mira, as though it was her fault that he had tapped out. He had just stalked into his locker room, grabbed his things and headed back to the hotel, without a word, leaving Mira to stay alone at the arena at the bay of the hostile glares and gloats that her fellow Divas were passing along to her. It didn't help his sixty day suspension was starting now, as well.

Shane McMahon approached her, and she appreciated the fact that he was cool with her. "Hey, Mira. How are you?"

"What a match," she replied. "I couldn't believe Cena countered the Batista Bomb like that."

"Guy's got a lot of fight," Shane replied. Mira nodded. "He'll be okay," he passed on. It was a nice connection she had with Shane. They were friends enough to know what each other was thinking. He was a good guy.

"Thanks."

"I have to tell you. Tomorrow night you gotta report to Dad's office," Shane replied. "He has some plans for you now that Dave's been suspended. You'll stop by before the show starts?"

"You know it," she replied. Her stomach was feeling heavy again. What did Vince have planned for her?

_Tomorrow night on Raw is going to be fun. Tune in. _


	8. Ninety Days

**Chapter Seven: Ninety Days**

Stephanie McMahon sat behind the desk in her father's makeshift office, fighting to suppress the giggles that threatened to overtake her. Meanwhile, Vince and Linda stood in front of the desk, dealing with Mira, who was dressed in a silver quarter-sleeved shirt, black bell-bottoms, heels, and her hair in braided pigtails. Her face was incredulous and she was fuming.

"I can't believe this!" she roared. "You're sticking me with _him_?"

Vince even had to admit, he found this whole situation humorous. "You're damn right we are," he replied with his trademark McMahon growl. "You're his new manager and that's final!"

"But, Vince, surely, knowing our history..."

"...The fans will go insane," Vince replied. There was no shaking this guy. Mira shot a look of desperation to Linda, who was normally the voice of reason within the First Family of Wrestling.

But tonight, Linda was of no solace either. "Mira, we're not asking you to do this, we're telling you to do this," Vince told her. Linda put up a hand.

"Vince." She looked at Mira. "Just go with it for ninety days," Linda told her. "I promise you that after ninety days, if you don't like it, you can go, no questions asked. We don't want to lose you to TNA, but your chemistry with Cena is just too much to be ignored."

"Then I guess I should get over to his locker room, then, shouldn't I?" she asked. They nodded, and she took off. The McMahons were silent.

"I'll give it a month before she cracks," Vince replied.

"Less than that," Stephanie interjected, "she's cracking already."

John Cena was in his gear, hopping from foot to foot to get his cardio up. There was a knock on the door and he stopped. Judgment Day. Time to find out who was behind the door. "Yo!" he called out.

Mira walked in, having since changed. She was wearing a white tank top, camoflauge pants with black boots on the outside of the pant legs and a pink hat. He stared at her, floored. "They stuck me with _you_?" he asked. She didn't look any more happier about it. Secretly, he was overjoyed, but he wasn't about to let her know that.

"Let's just get this over with," she replied dryly. She went to walk past him, but he grabbed her arm and turned her to him.

"I need to know - you planning to screw me over?" he asked. Their eyes locked.

"I plan on serving my ninety day sentence and then moving about my life," she replied hotly. He let her go.

"Mira, I'm serious..."

Their gazes were locked for what seemed like an eternity. Finally, she exhaled. "No, Cena. I'm not going to. Whether I like it or not, I am your manager and I need to be acting in your best interests." He exhaled.

"Mira, I'm sorry for everything..." she wheeled about to face him.

"I think you can forgive me when I say that my track record with you so-called 'Superstars' prevents me from feeling any sort of sympathy or compassion for you or your so-called apology." He stared at her, a smirk spreading across his face, but not from being impressed. It was from shock.

"You have a match against Shelton Benjamin, do you not?" she asked dryly. He nodded. "Then let's get a move on." She walked past him out the door. He smirked. He was going to love this.

She was mad. The McMahons had pulled one over on her and to top it all off, the fans seemed to find her plight more than slightly amusing. Cena climbed up the steps and held the ropes open for her, but she walked to the other side of the ring and climbed in. Slightly aggravated, Cena climbed into the ring. She made sure to avoid him at all costs.

She climbed out and began to watch as the match went underway. She wasn't about to cheer him on. No way. She just opted to stand there like a bump on a log and do absolutely nothing. Not a damn thing.

About five minutes into the match, it started aggravating Cena that he had no support. With a sigh, he kept going. She just watched, satisfied that she wasn't giving him - or the McMahons - what they wanted. This was so stupid. She didn't want to be the manager to John Cena. Yeah, she wanted him, but she was trying to get rid of that. Putting her with him was not going to help that!

He hit the F-U to Shelton Benjamin and pinned him for the three count. But Mira just walked away up the ramp, leaving him breathing heavily in the ring, hands on hips, admiring the view of watching her leave.

"Did you see that?"

Stephanie McMahon only nodded in sympathy. John Cena was packing his stuff, absolutely infuriated. "I mean, it's one thing to be my manager and hate me, but she just stood there! Hell - Candice even has more personality than Mira tonight!" He was frustrated. "God, what the hell did I do to deserve this, Steph? What?"

"I'll talk to her," Stephanie replied. "Mira's just stubborn."

"No shit," he replied sarcastically. "You haven't noticed."

"I'll get Shane to talk to her. They're better friends." She pulled out her cell phone and called her older brother.

Shane McMahon walked in to find her packing her things. "You call tonight a managing job?" he asked. His tone wasn't angry, but he was sure mystified.

"I don't know," she replied coldly, "I'm still mystified by the whole managing thing."

"Mira, even you know that the manager is supposed to motivate her client. You gotta cheer him on."

She turned on him, her icy eyes blazing like fire. "Over my dead body," she stated firmly.

"Mira..."

She sighed; whenever Shane used that "please work with me" tone, it never failed to work on her. "Oh, fine," she murmured. A small smile even had to cross her face.

"And maybe a little enthusiasm..."

"Don't push your luck," she replied. Shane nodded, taking the hint.

"Glad we had this talk," he replied. "I'll see you next week." She nodded, and he let himself out. She stood alone in the empty locker room, wondering what next week would have in store.

"Anyone tell you how hot you look tonight?"

Mira turned to see Randy Orton leaned against her car. "What do you want?"

"I have a solution to your predicament," he replied, "don't be so defensive."

"What?"

"Help me get that title and I will see what I can do about getting this Cena's manager stuff lifted," he told her, "come on. You know I'm good for it." She put her stuff in her trunk and slammed it shut, moving around the car to face Randy Orton.

"If I had my way, I would tell you to go to hell. I would tell all of you, Dave, Vince, Cena, all of you to just go to hell." She unlocked her car door and climbed into the drivers seat. "I am Cena's manager and you know what that means?" He shook his head.

"It means that for better or worse I am his manager, which means I have to be his eyes, ears and backup all rolled into one. I told him I'd have his best interests at heart, and I'm no liar. So I guess you'll have to understand why I have to respectfully decline your offer." With that, she started the car and drove away.

_Cena's newest contender is Randy Orton and that's going to pose problems for Mira. How? Tune in and read..._


	9. Orton's New Manager

**Chapter Eight - Orton's New Manager**

_"Glad we had this talk," he replied. "I'll see you next week." She nodded, and he let himself out. She stood alone in the empty locker room, wondering what next week would have in store. _

Things were better this week, John Cena had to admit. Not only did she cheer for him, but she actually had a Hustle, Loyalty, Respect minidress made to match him. And those heels...he had to focus. He had just defeated Carlito, and focusing on how hot Mira looked was probably not a great thing to be doing at that time. Especially after he had been informed Randy Orton was the new number one contender for his championship. That man was capable of anything and he needed to watch his back now more than ever. It didn't help he still didn't trust Mira all that much; not after WrestleMania, he didn't.

"Let me show you what love is, let me show you how to move your body..."

Mira's face instantly marred into an ugly scowl. Out strolled Candice Michelle in the little white number that she wore on the cover of her Playboy magazine. She had that stupid wand in her hand that made Mira want to beat her about the head, neck, chest and face area with it. Not that she didn't want to do that when Candice didn't have the wand, either, but that was a different story. She was already armed with a microphone and she climbed into the ring to stand face to face with Mira. Cena was staring at Mira, who was seething to no end.

"Sorry to interrupt your victory, Cena," she replied seductively before turning her hard brown eyes to Mira, "but a real Diva has something to say.

"Since you balked at Randy Orton's offer to become his manager last week, I would like to take this time to announce to the world that I have stepped in to be Randy Orton's manager."

Mira gave Cena a tap on the chest. "Grab me a mic," she replied. "Diva thing." He was floored though. She had never mentioned anything about Orton approaching her. "Cena." He nodded and went.

"And I vow that I do everything that I can for my client," Candice added, her tone filled with innuendo. "Is that how it works for you?" The crowd was actually booing Candice. No matter how much they hated Mira, they hated Candice more. At least that made Mira feel better.

Mira put the microphone to her lips, hoping the fans didn't notice the flinch that she had made when Candice made that comment. "Wow, you're Orton's new manager," she replied. Candice nodded. "I hope you don't mind. I love to know the details, so mind if I ask our number one blockbuster Diva a question or two?" Candice nodded and that's when Mira brought out the big guns.

"I gotta know, honey, how does it feel to be second choice? Or is that something you're used to?"

Cena couldn't suppress a laugh. She smiled when she heard his melodic laughter fill her ears. Candice went to strike her, but she caught her hand in mid air and leveled Candice with a slap of her own. With Candice on the ground, rubbing her throbbing face, Mira leaned down to get on her level.

"Let's get one thing straight, bitch - I am a two-time Women's Champion. You mess with me, and I will end your career like that." She snapped her fingers. "Now get to steppin'." "The Time Is Now" began to play and Candice rolled out of the ring, making her way up to the ring, vowing revenge.

"How come you never told me?"

"Told you about what?"

"Orton's offer?"

"Oh. That. Didn't seem important."

"Thanks."

"For what?"

"Looking out for me."

"Told you I would, didn't I?"

They were standing outside of Mira's locker room. There was this awkward feeling in the air between them. "Mira, I..."

"I gotta roll. Early flight. See you next week?"

He nodded, defeated. "Yeah." She disappeared.

She drove along the Connecticut roads, head rested on her hand. She was tired, but she had the window rolled down so that the cold, whipping air would keep her awake.

She was going to crack. She could feel it. Tonight, when Cena was standing so closely to her, she felt her resolve starting to weaken. She was in love, and she was afraid of that. She turned on the radio to hear the soothing melody of Celine Dion's "I Love You" fill the car. She changed it around until she got to the song "Mesmerised" by Ja Rule. She decided to give it one more time, and got "Are You That Somebody?" by Aaliyah. She shut off the radio, lamenting at its cryptic choice of songs. She hadn't felt this way with Randy, or with Brock, but Cena...it was like, wow.

She pulled to a stop at the stoplight across from McDonald's. It was midnight and the roads were empty. Except for a car that was peeling out of McDonald's at an alarming pace...

John Cena sat on the balcony of his hotel room, sipping a coffee that tasted like motor oil. With a slight grimace, he poured it over the balcony, thankful that everybody downstairs had since gone to bed.

He could hear the sirens approaching in the distance. He heard the sound of tires squealing and a loud smash earlier, and it sounded like a pretty nasty pile-up. Figuring that was going to be the only excitement for the night, he disappeared into his hotel room, shutting out the light behind him.

_Things are going to pick up between Orton, Candice, Cena and Mira. Keep on reading. _


	10. Truce?

**Chapter Nine: Truce?**

The pain was amazingly unbearable and it was the first thing that Mira woke up to when she was jolted awake at noon on Wednesday.

She had four stitches in her ankle, a massive bruise the shape of a seatbelt running along her shoulders and abdomen, bruised ribs and a slight concussion from the "meeting of the minds" she had engaged in with her steering wheel. She was laid out in bed, sore to the extent of wanting to scream at the ceiling.

She heard the doorbell ring and she groaned. The front door was down the spiral staircase. Slowly peeling back the covers, wincing and breathing roughly in pain with each one, she made her way out of bed. She was too sore to even put on her robe, so she just left it at that and made her way slowly out the door in her baby blue spaghetti strapped nightgown.

As she made her way down the stairs, she heard the doorbell ring again. "Patience is a virtue," she mumbled quietly, as she slowly made her way to the door. She unlocked it and opened it as John Cena whizzed past her, a bouquet in his hand.

"I got here as soon as I got the word," he replied. "Jesus Christ, what happened?" He was examining her up and down. He ran his finger along the seatbelt shaped bruise.

"To be honest, it happened really fast," she replied. They fell silent.

"I, uh, brought you these. A, uh, get well present," he said. He was nervous about bringing her anything. The last thing he wanted was to feel the sting of rejection at her house.

But to his relief, she took them, gave them a smell. "They're very nice," she replied. "Thank you." She felt a sharp pain shoot through her ribs and she exhaled sharply. This sent Cena into a panic.

"You all right? Have a seat..."

"My ribs are bruised, Cena; I'm fine. You think I'm hurt, you should see the car." He stared at her incredulously.

"How can you joke about something like that?"

"Because I'm okay and living and breathing," she replied. They fell silent, into that awkward silence, no less. "You eaten yet?"

Cena stopped to think. He had gotten the call from Shane, ran straight to the airport, drove over..."No, I haven't," he replied, moreso to himself.

"Come on." She began to limp towards the kitchen. He picked her up. "Cena! What the hell are you doing?"

"You've got stitches in your ankle," he informed her. "Last thing we need is you tearing them." He put her down in the kitchen. "I'll cook."

"No way. I am not going to let you burn my house down."

"Would you chill out? I do have a degree in fitness and nutrition, Mira, I think I know how to cook." She just took a deep breath and allowed Cena to wreak havoc in her kitchen. She was too sore to move anyway, and the painkillers weren't helping her. "Now, where's the pans?"

"Under the oven," she replied dryly. He smirked and grabbed a pan.

"So, any leads on who rammed into you?"

"No, but I think I have a pretty good idea."

"Oh?"

"Your contender."

"You think Orton hit you?"

"Doing it themselves seems to risky. I think they hired somebody to do it."

"So what happened?"

"I was just stopped at a stoplight and the next thing I know I'm waking up in the hospital with Stephanie and Hunter over me."

"I'm sorry," he apologized, "I should have..."

"Don't even."

"After what happened with you and Candice..."

"I didn't even foresee it, so just stop."

"Mira, they could have killed you!"

"But I'm still standing."

"That's not the point..."

"And since when are you so concerned with the health of 'Super Slut'?"

The words hung in the air and she regretted them instantaneously. Cena stared at her, obviously wounded. "I'm going upstairs," she murmured, getting out of her chair and slowly making her way out of the kitchen.

"There goes Mira Barerra, once again running from her problems," Cena fired.

"Why are you here?" she murmured. "Just leave."

"I came to call a truce, but...fuck, this is a waste of time," he snapped. He was about to leave from the backyard, but Mira's voice rang out.

"Truce?"

"Yeah, a truce. Not that you know what that is, but I came to wipe the slate clean. If Orton and Candice are on the same page, we need to be, too. But...bad time, not good, I'm out. Bye."

"Cena..."

She hated this. She limped back to the table. "Just...stay." He nodded and she smiled.

"I gotta know, though, were you the one behind the phone clips?"

"No." Her voice seemed honest enough. "I want to know who the hell got a hold of that."

"It was incredibly embarassing."

"Maybe you shouldn't have called so much," she replied. He smirked, serving the lunch. He sat down across from her.

"So, what is the deal with you and Batista? It seems a little weird."

"It's really none of your business," she replied softly.

"I gotta know, Mira, can you just humor me, please? How long before WrestleMania were you seeing him?"

She sighed. "A while," she lied.

"When I kissed you..."

"Yeah," she lied. She was hoping the more she lied the more he would leave her alone. But she could see it in his eyes that he didn't believe her. But she wasn't about to answer otherwise and he wasn't going to ask any more questions. They ate in silence.

"When do you think you'll be back in action?" he inquired.

"I'll be there on Monday," she replied. "And on Monday, that bitch is mine."

_Mayhem to ensue on Raw. Stay tuned. _


	11. Revenge

Thank you so much for your patience, guys. I got another idea and it just went on a journey all its own. Here's chapter ten.

**Chapter Ten: Revenge!**

With Mira's return, they had both decided to make a secret entrance into the arena. Seen by nobody, they went straight to Cena's locker room and put their stuff down in there. Mira was thankful for Cena; in the last week, he had been taking care of her through being sick and sore and bitchier than she usually was. She felt her anger going towards Batista. He hadn't even phoned; he was ruining the entire plan as it went along. Val Venis, the driver, would now be out four months with a broken foot.

They had spent the entire week figuring that the car driven into Mira had been originally targeted for John Cena. So imagine their surprise when Candice and Randy revealed that the car was actually meant for Mira. That's when Randy and Candice began to poke fun at Cena. "He flew all the way out to look after a stuck up bitch who can't stand him!"

"Well, where was Batista?" Cena mused under his breath. Mira heard him, but chose not to dignify his question with a response. Anyway, she knew what he was getting at. If she and Batista were just so in love like she had been telling Cena, where was he to take care of her this week? She got it. Then Randy made a comment about her time with the Legend Killer and Cena was fuming. Even she was a little taken aback.

"I'll be right back," she replied. Cena nodded. Right now, he was focused and locked on target with Randy Orton in his sights.

Candice went up and over Stephanie's couch so fast that the useless Diva had no time to react. They landed and Mira was mounted on her, wailing down punches on the fallen Diva. Several referees filed in and dragged Candice out, all the meantime holding back Mira, who was catcalling at Candice.

"Mira! You're here!" Stephanie exclaimed excitedly. The referees released Mira and she gave her good friend a hug.

"Yeah. Cena and I got here a little while ago."

"Nobody saw you. We thought you guys had taken tonight off."

"Why? I'm okay."

"I assume you heard what they said?"

"Yeah."

"So you want a match with Candice tonight?"

"That would be terrific," Mira confessed. "I want to just beat her ass. Can we have it a Hardcore match?"

"Mira..."

"To be fair, Steph, she did try to kill me the other night."

Stephanie exhaled. Mira was right, as usual. "You got your Hardcore match. Beginning of the seven o'clock hour. Just be careful out there." Mira nodded and left the locker room to get ready for her match.

Tonight should have been a happy night for Mira. With her return, she should have been celebrating her new theme. She was a little sad to lose the Collective Soul theme, bu tthis one was replaced with a heavier song performed by Disturbed. She had changed into a blue halter top and black cargo pants, her hair in braided pigtails. She had her gaze locked on the scantily clad Candice in the ring and she picked up the pace. When she slid into the ring, Candice was already flying at her with the kendo stick. Of course, Mira was a veteran Diva. Not only that, she was a veteran Diva trained by Kurt Angle. So the competition that Candice could provide Mira was not that much. Within minutes Candice had fallen victim to Mira's Impaler DDT and the three count was awarded.

Of course, there was a man that wasn't okay with this, and Randy Orton was soon running full-speed towards the ring to give Mira the beating of a lifetime. But Mira wasn't fearing him, even with the dull pain in her head and her ribs. She refused to fear him.

But within seconds, John Cena had attacked Randy Orton, sending both him and Candice bailing away from the ring, catcalling the champion and his manager. Mira and Cena were trash talking back, fearing nothing that the Legend Killer and his trusty manager had to say to them. After all, they had all heard it before from Randy Orton, and he seemed to be unable to capitalize on it.

Cena's theme blared through the arena and he held Mira's arm up high to the crowd.

"I wasn't out of line there, was I? I was just trying to make a point."

Cena and Mira were in the parking lot, gathering her things into her car. "No, Cena. For the last time, don't worry about it. It's part of our job." Cena nodded as she slammed the trunk. "But thank you for looking out for me these past few days. I do appreciate it."

"Yeah. No problem. Just needed to make sure you were all right." He leaned over and gave her a kiss on the cheek. "I still love you, Mira."

"Cena..." she smiled, shaking her head. "Please. Not now."

"Okay," he replied, backing off. She would come around when she was ready. Batista obviously didn't care for her as much as she liked to think, he had learned. She was probably just a pawn in his title aspirations, nothing more. "I'll see you on Monday." She nodded and climbed into her car.

"Good night, Cena."

"Good night, Mira." He only watched hopelessly as she drove away.


	12. Vengeance

**Chapter Eleven: Vengeance**

Raw was presenting Vengeance live on a rainy afternoon in June. With an umbrella in hand, Mira walked into the arena, happy to escape the dreary weather that had been plaguing her since Boston. The show was coming from the MCI Center in Washington, D.C., hometown of suspended Superstar Batista. Mira was so angry at him that words couldn't describe how she was feeling. The deal was that he garnered himself the championship in return of keeping Cena off of her back, and from the way things were going, he had failed miserably. It wasn't that she didn't love Cena...the problem was that she did. And she had made things needlessly complicated and he was still following after her. She didn't understand why, either.

But she pushed the angry thoughts of her cohort aside and entered the arena to run into Melina. She and Melina were sort of friends, the duo having gone out a few times since her heel turn. Melina knew the full story between Mira and Cena and so it was actually a lot easier to talk to Melina about these kind of things.

"Hey, Mira," Melina said airily. Johnny Nitro had a championship defense against Shelton Benjamin later on in the night. "How's life treating you?"

"Wonderful. Did you see the weather out there?" They laughed as Mira shook out her umbrella and closed it. "So, you waiting for Nitro?"

"Actually, to be honest, I'm waiting for you," she replied. Mira arched a curious eyebrow at Raw's trendsetting Diva.

"Me?" Mira asked. Melina nodded. "What do you want with me?"

"I want to help get you ready tonight," Melina replied. "Would that be okay with you?"

"Yeah, I guess," Mira said. Melina's eyes brightened. Mira couldn't help but be mystified with Melina's attitude.

"Great. I have just the outfit for you, too," Melina replied. She went into her duffel bag. "I found this at a store this weekend and I saw it and thought, 'Mira's managing Cena – this would be so perfect.'" She pulled out a one piece camouflage pantsuit with a very low neckline.

Mira's eyes widened. "I couldn't wear anything like that," she insisted.

"Nonsense," Melina retorted, handing her the outfit. "Go get into this outfit and then we'll work on the rest."

"I'm not going to win this one, am I?" Mira asked.

"You learn fast," Melina replied, which prompted laughter out of the two Divas. Mira disappeared into the change room and got into the outfit.

She surveyed herself in the mirror. It was open almost all the way down to the belly button and she had to admit, she was slightly uncomfortable showing off so much, especially to John Cena. But she loved the outfit. It held her in place a lot better than she had originally thought it would.

"You finished in there?" Melina inquired. It had been about twenty minutes since Mira had gone in to get into the outfit. Melina walked in. "You look great. Now, come here. I found a belt that would work for this. By the way, keep this stuff. If Nitro ever saw me wearing this..." she smiled. She was in her gear already – heeled black boots, a black pleated miniskirt and a baby pink halter top. She moved a lot more swiftly in the stilettoed boots than Mira ever could.

She handed Mira a rhinestone belt and Mira put it on. Melina fixed it so the belt dangled loosely over her hips. Mira put on her thick heeled boots and Melina set about to work styling Mira's hair. She gave it an old fashioned look, with the bangs falling across one eye and pinned back and spiked. She sprayed it down with some glitter spray before setting about to work on Mira's makeup.

Mira had to admit she looked incredible and wondered if she should get Melina to do shopping for her more often. "Oh, and one more thing," Melina said. Mira turned to her, surprised. She grabbed a "Hustle, Loyalty, Respect" spinner pendant and put it on around her neck. "We have to let them know you're managing The Champ." They laughed. "I have to get going," Melina replied. "Nitro's match is coming up. Tell Cena good luck, and go out there and look good." Mira laughed and Melina was gone.

"Where is she?"

Cena was pacing back and forth impatiently, waiting for Mira to show up. He hadn't seen her since she arrived, but he knew she was there. Carlito had said that he had seen her with Melina. That had produced a groan. If she was hanging out with Melina, things could only get worse.

"Cena!"

He turned around and his jaw dropped when he saw the wide V of exposed flesh in her chest area. She was self-conscious about it, he could tell. There was a slight pinkish blush making its way up her neck. She looked hot. Maybe hanging with Melina wasn't such a bad thing...

"Hey, Champ, eyes up here," she informed him.

"What?" he replied, looking up at her. She was smiling. "I was, uh, staring at, your pendant..."

"Sure you were."

"I was!"

"Okay, Cena," she replied. "Sorry I'm late. Melina wanted to get me ready for tonight. You ready for your match against Orton?"

"This soldier's locked in and focused," he told her, giving her a mock salute. She smiled. "They're already out at ringside."

"Well," she replied as she heard his trademark theme start. "You ready to roll?"

"Always." He extended his arm and she linked hers with his.

Candice was slightly jealous. Before he could catch himself, Randy's jaw had dropped at the sight of his ex. She looked incredible, but Candice herself wasn't about to admit that. Cena stopped at the top of the ramp and turned her around making sure that Orton got himself a good view of what he lost. With wide smiles on their faces the duo walked down the ramp together, side by side, in unison, stopping at the ring. Cena got onto the apron and Mira went to the steps, making her way up to the apron. He sat on the ropes and let her enter the ring. She got in and showboated for the crowd and then announced the arrival of the champ. She could see Candice seething in the corner, and she had to admit that she felt all the more better because of it. She hated that woman more than life itself.

Randy blindsided Cena and the match started, prompting the two managers to leave the ring. Candice took her place on the left half of the ring, while Mira stood on the right, her eyes stuck to the Go Diva to make sure she didn't step out of line at any time.

Candice obviously felt the ice blue eyes of Mira Barrera on her, but that didn't stop her at all. Not in the slightest, as she raked her fingernails across Cena's eyes while he was on the ropes. This prompted Mira to hit Randy Orton with a lowblow while the referee was reprimanding Candice. Now that Mira had leveled the playing field – so to speak – the match seemed back on track. There was no way that she was going to see the championship go back around the waist of that pig Randy Orton.

The match continued to go without a hitch, with Candice causing so much interference that eventually she was caught and ejected from ringside. She tried to charge Mira, who was gloating at Candice's obvious misfortune, but Mira ducked it and leveled Candice with a kick to the head. The referee advised Mira to watch herself, and Mira insisted that she had acted in self-defense. She motioned for the referee to go back to the match, where John Cena had Randy Orton trapped in the STFU.

The referee slid down in front of the athletes and started asking Randy the stationary questions of "Do you want to quit?" "Do you give?"

Randy was trying hard not to, but in the middle of the ring with no interference, the youngest World Heavyweight Champion in history had no other choice but to tap out to Cena's stepover toehold facelock.

"That was terrific!" Mira replied, ecstatic as she got backstage.

"What are you doing tonight?" Cena inquired.

"Not too much. Going back to the hotel to veg out and get out of this outfit."

"Oh, come on. You look hot," he informed her.

"That's the problem," she answered and he laughed.

"Come on out with me, in that," he replied. "We'll paint the town red." She looked into his blue eyes. Something was telling her to go, but something was telling her to keep her indifference up. She had to admit; it was getting tougher and tougher. He was just too sweet.

"I say you're on. Let's go."


	13. Houston, We Have A Problem

**Chapter Twelve: Houston, We Have A Problem**

Two weeks after Cena's hard fought victory over Randy Orton at Vengeance, Raw rolled into Houston, Texas, hometown of WWE great the Undertaker. Mira arrived at the arena in generally high spirits, dressed in a floral print pink dress with an angled cut around the bottom.

She had remembered last week. Cena had defeated Randy Orton again, when the youngest Orton demanded his rematch clause. Cena had told him sure thing, and sure enough, with Candice's stupidity, Cena retained his championship.

In a complete fit of excitement, Cena had decided that they go out, to which Mira had said no thanks. She wanted to keep herself distanced. She felt uncomfortable every time she was around him, having him tell her how beautiful she was, how much he loved her, how much he wanted her. Normally, she'd be flattered, but she was scared to let Cena even get close.

Just then, Ricky Steamboat, Dean Malenko and Carlito ran past her, almost knocking her down in the process. "Quick – he's lost it!" Carlito reported. Completely curious, Mira followed along to see a large crowd gathered in front of the makeup area.

Pushing her way through, she saw Randy Orton leaned back against the black trunk, with Cena over him, whaling on him, punch after punch connecting with Randy's already bloody face. "Cena! Jesus Christ, stop it!" Mira called out, stopping to grab his arm in mid-swing.

He stopped and turned to her, his ice blue eyes blazing. It surprised her. Usually when he turned to her, his eyes softened, no matter how angry he was.

But not in this case.

"You lied to me."

"What?" She couldn't comprehend what was going on.

"You lied to me," he repeated, shaking his head in disgust. With that, he walked away, leaving her staring in amazement down the hall.

She turned to Shelton Benjamin. "Will somebody please tell me what the hell I'm missing here?"

"I'm not sure, sugar," Shelton replied. "I just got here myself." She looked over at Randy Orton, who was being ushered away.

"Randy, what the hell happened?" Mira demanded. Randy's glowering hazel blue eyes focused on her.

"You need to keep his ass in tow," Randy snarled before Ricky and Dean led him towards the trainers room.

Stephanie McMahon was waiting in her office for Mira. Mira arrived several minutes later and sat down in front of her good friend. "So I heard about the fight between Cena and Orton..."

"Do you know what started it? Because I don't have a single clue," Mira replied.

"I can't help you there, sweetheart, but I doubt Randy Orton was the innocent victim here," Stephanie replied.

"Well, whatever happened, Cena's mad at me now," Mira confessed.

"Why?"

"I don't know. All he kept saying was, 'You lied to me'."

"Lied about what?"

"I don't know. Your guess is as good as mine, Steph," Mira replied. "Has he said anything to you?"

"I haven't seen John at all tonight," Stephanie admitted. "But until we settle all this, we'll take you two off of TV."

"How will you explain that?"

"Movie promotions in Europe," Stephanie replied. "Always trust a McMahon, we know what we're doing." Mira nodded with a smile. "You just go relax for the night, and I'll try and see what I can dig up about what happened between John and Randy."

"Thanks, Steph," Mira replied, walking out of the office. She was completely surprised at herself. She had spent all this time trying to make John Cena hate her, and now that it seemed like she had finally succeeded, why was she so upset?


	14. SummerSlam Drama

**Chapter Thirteen: SummerSlam Drama**

"Shout 2000" by Disturbed began to play, echoing throughout the arena, and the crowd roared. Normally, Mira would be happy to hear the adulation the fans were raining upon her, but not today.

Her red hair in a sloppy ponytail, dressed in a purple two-piece dress ensemble, she stormed down to the ring with a microphone in her left hand and a piece of white printer paper in her right. She had some major business to attend to and if it killed her, if she had to hold the show hostage, damn it, she would get some answers.

She climbed into the ring and snapped, "Cut my music!" The music abruptly stopped and she took a deep breath before continuing her tirade. "For the past week, I have had fans asking me what the hell I lied to Cena about and quite frankly, I don't know. But Randy Orton, John Cena, I want both your asses out in this ring right now!" She was growing more furious and more furious at the expense of the white paper in her hand.

The familiar power chords strummed up and Randy Orton came out, not in his ring gear, but in a pair of black slacks and a white button-down shirt. Candice was not by his side. For that, Mira was thankful. After all, how could she attend to business and fight the urge to snap Candice in two.

She did feel slightly sorry for him, however. Despite his clean-cut attire, he was scratched and stitched and swollen from the brawl last week. Cena had really handed Randy's ass to him.

Randy got into the ring and went towards her, but she ushered him to stay back as his music faded. "Cena, it's your turn..." She waited for several minutes, and nothing happened. Finally, she pulled out the big guns. "After everything we've been through, I think you owe me this much."

His theme turned up instantly and he came out. No theatrics, no high energy, just his eyes glaring daggers at both Randy Orton and Mira Barrera as he climbed into the ring. His theme faded. He had no microphone, he had no intention to speak.

She actually felt uncomfortable under his furious gaze. "Cena, I need you to be honest with me..." She held out the paper to him. "I found this over the weekend. I want to know. Was this how your brawl started? I need to know."

He took the paper from her. He stared at it and she studied his eyes for some sign, something that would indicate that the piece of paper she held was indeed the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth.

To her dismay, he didn't answer, he just dropped the paper and stormed out of the ring. Devastated, she picked up the paper and took it to Randy Orton. "Did you say this, Randy? Be honest with me."

He smiled at the piece of paper. To her it was as good as a confession. "You son of a bitch!" she raged, swinging. She swore to herself that he had to be getting used to be smacked around by her. The third slap, Randy caught her arm and grabbed her by the hair. Before anything could happen, however, Mr. McMahon's music began to play. "Could this get any worse?" she yelled out. She stomped on Randy's foot with her heel, prompting him to let go of her, shouting obscenities in pain.

"Now, Miss Barrera, I don't care who you are," he roared in his trademark McMahon growl, "I cannot have you wreaking havoc on my WWE Superstars. Now, since you want your hands on Mr. Orton so bad, I have no alternative but to place you in a match with Randy Orton at SummerSlam."

She was completely stunned, but as she turned to see Randy's reaction, everything suddenly went black.

When she came to, she was surrounded by Stephanie, Shane, Torrie, Maria, Carlito and Shelton. Hell, Batista was even looming over her, fresh off of his suspension.

"You okay, Mir?" Batista inquired. She shook her head.

"I have Randy Orton at SummerSlam," she whined, holding her head. It was throbbing. "I don't think I'll ever be okay again." Then it all flooded back. "Cena...he just...he walked away..."

"Now you know how he felt on the beach," Torrie piped up. Stephanie shot a look of reprimand at Torrie, who then excused herself and left.

"He hates me," Mira lamented.

"Isn't that what you wanted?" inquired Shane.

"I don't know what I want!" Mira replied. The two McMahons were staring at Batista. He didn't seem to mind that Mira had abandoned ship on the plan. But Batista was a smart man, and they were pretty sure that everyone saw through the bullshit when it came together. "I just...I don't want him to hate me."

"Come on, Mira, I'll take you back to your hotel," Batista replied. She nodded and got up, woozy from the RKO. They stared in bewilderment as he helped her out, like a brother would help a sister.

Batista saw the slip of paper. She had left it behind. She was too depressed to even say anything on the way back. He was almost certain that he had never seen a woman so in love with a man, and vice versa. He suddenly had an epiphany, realizing the stupidity of stepping between a complicated situation. The paper was only going to reaffirm his belief.

_"WWE Superstar Brawl_

_By Rick Clark, Inside Wrestling_

_A surreal moment went down between Raw Superstars John Cena and Randy Orton, according to a WWE Superstar. It all started when John Cena was at the coffee table, gathering himself a cup after what one can assume was another incredibly busy week for the champion. _

_While gathering his cup of coffee, he was approached by none other than the "Legend Killer". One must remember that we reported last week that Cena was seen at a club without his manager Mira Barrera at his side. _

_Cena tried to play off cool, but eventually, Randy grabbed himself a cup of coffee and inquired, "How was your night with Mira last week?"_

_Cena was irritated, and tried to ignore him by saying, "None of your business."_

_That's when Randy piped up. "Oh, you wouldn't know, because she wasn't with you. I'll tell you how her night was...she learned what a true legend is all about...over...and...over...again." He smirked, which prompted Cena to haul off and punch him in the face. The fight was broken up by officials, only it took several minutes to break the two up. Mira also tried to act as the voice of reason, but it seemed to no avail as Cena left her standing alone in the hallway. Talk about humiliating!"_

With a deep breath, Batista started his car and sped out of the parking lot.


	15. Reality Check

**Chapter Fourteen: Reality Check**

It was the Sunday before SummerSlam, and nobody had seen Mira in a month. Rumor had it that Stephanie had sent her down to OVW for extensive training prior to her match with Randy Orton. Cena knew it was all a crock; after all, she was Kurt Angle's only female student. She was as ready for this match as she was ever going to be.

Stephanie had also left him off TV, and he and Randy both had to stay home for two weeks and "think about what they did," so to speak. Cena had never felt so childish in his entire life. But now he sat in his locker room, in the dark, alone with his angry, ugly thoughts.

All she ever did was lie to him, and for what? Because he was in love with her? He had never had to work so hard to impress a woman in his entire life. And now he was starting to feel like it wasn't even worth it. That all this was was just a game of "string along the champ."

There was a knock on the door. "Go away!" he barked, his breathing slow and even in its anger. Instead of heeding the warnings, the door slowly opened, allowing a small beam of light to announce the entrance of a very stern looking Stephanie McMahon. She was dressed in a turquoise miniskirt and black halter with a leather jacket covering her broad shoulders.

"John Cena, we really need to talk," she began, but he cut her off.

"Mira send you?"

"No, Mira is at home, recovering from an RKO and brutal training. Not that you'd know; after all, you've ex-communicated her in these last few weeks."

"Steph..."

"Don't even," she snapped. "She put everything aside for you to make her feel like an outcast and for what? Randy Orton opening his big mouth?"

"She lied..."

"You don't even know what the hell you're talking about," she snapped at him.

"Then why don't you enlighten me?" he snapped.

"She was with us, you idiot!" she snapped. Her patience was already on a thin wire, and he wasn't helping her out any. "She went for dinner with Shane, Torrie, Maria, Victoria and I. We were talking about where we were going to place the next Divas magazine!" She stared at him hotly. "Anyway, what's the big deal about her being with Orton? If anybody should be upset, it should be Batista..."

"Oh, you know as well as I do that's a load of crap!" he roared. "She loves me as much as I love her and she's just acting stupid!"

Stephanie was taken aback by his anger-fueled proclamation. Her eyes widened; suddenly everything fell into place.

"That Internet report...is that how it happened...?"

He nodded. "I thought if I hit him, I'd feel better."

"Yeah, well, Mira thought so too and now she has Orton on Sunday." She turned to leave, but stopped. "I'm going to leave you now, but before I go, I am going to leave you with some words of wisdom:

"Even though she didn't have to, Mira helped you keep that championship around your waist. Now she's been forced into a match with Randy Orton. You know it, and I know it, even though she's been trained by Kurt Angle, she couldn't beat Randy Orton if she tried. So, this Sunday at SummerSlam, John, Mira needs you. She needs you more than you'll ever comprehend or know. So if you love her half as much as you say you do, you won't let her down."

With that, Stephanie was gone from the room, leaving Cena alone to chew on his thoughts.


	16. SummerSlam

**Chapter Fifteen: SummerSlam**

He had given up searching for Mira about an hour ago; she had either gone into hiding or had yet to arrive at the Fleet Center in their hometown of Boston. She had to be a nervous wreck; only six days ago, Mr. McMahon had announced that her match against Randy Orton at SummerSlam would be a no holds barred match. If he thought she couldn't beat Randy Orton before, things were about to get a whole lot worse.

Stephanie's words were still running through his mind; he couldn't believe the impact her words of wisdom had on him. It had slapped him in the face, making him realize how heavy the situation was. There was no way Mira Barrera was going to be able to defeat Randy Orton. And with Randy's intense hatred for John Cena, there was no doubt that he was going to brutalize Mira just to make him suffer.

Nobody would look Randy Orton in the eye as he walked down the hallways of the arena, preparing to get to the black curtain that would lead him to the ring. He had dressed in black trunks, that arrogant smirk stuck to his face. He didn't care all that much anyway; after all, nobody seemed to care for him at all that much. But everybody loved Mira. Perfect Mira Barrera.

The familiar power chords strummed up and he emerged from the curtain to a violent rain of boos from the crowd. He didn't remember being this hated since he was in Evolution. But he struck the regular pose as they pyrotechnics rained down behind him. He had a sick, cat-that-ate-the-canary smile stuck to his face as he climbed into the ring and awaited the entrance of his opponent.

"Good luck, Mira!"

The Superstars and Divas all shouted encouragement at a nervous Mira as she walked down the hallway. She gave them nods and smiles and slight waves as she heard the heavy theme begin to play. She uttered a small prayer before bounding through the curtain. She had dressed in a hot pink and black strapless top and black bell-bottoms, her hair in braided pigtails.

Randy's self-satisfied smirk faded when he saw her; she didn't look afraid in the slightest. She climbed up the steps and climbed into the ring. She knew she couldn't beat him in this scenario, but she was going to give it a try.

She stood face to face with him as her theme faded. She felt her stomach knot; but she refused to let Randy Orton sense it or see it. He smiled at her and she hauled off and slapped him hard across the face, staggering him back.

The bell rang and the match was officially underway. She quickly executed a dropkick, hitting him squarely in the chest. Startled, he fell backward. She jumped for joy and rushed out of the ring to find herself a weapon. Quickly ushering Lilian Garcia aside, she grabbed a steel chair. No holds barred was going to work out to her favor if it killed her.

But Randy had already made it to his feet, having finished his initial surprise. He reached over the rope and grabbed her by the hair. Thinking quickly, she grabed him around the neck and hung him up on the ropes. Her ankle rolled on the landing and she screamed as her hair ripped out before she crumpled to the ground in agony.

The referee rushed to her at ringside. "Are you okay?" he inquired.

"My ankle," she moaned tearfully. It burned. The referee went to throw the match out, but Randy shoved the referee into the steps, leaving her at his mercy. She had to crawl into the ring to escape, but he surprised her by grabbing her sore ankle and ripped her out of the ring. She hit the mat face first, her nose breaking on impact. While she held her nose in shock and pain, he maneuvered her sore ankle into the steel chair.

As he went to bring his weight down on the chair, he was whipped by John Cena into Batista, who leveled him with a devastating Spinebuster. Cena kept his attention on Mira as he released her ankle from the chair.

Meanwhile Batista had leveled Randy with a Batista Bomb in the ring as Cena helped her in. Batista draped her over Randy Orton as Cena retrieved and revived the referee, rolling him into the ring. The referee made the three count, and the arena exploded as Mira was announced as the winner of the no holds barred matchup.

Batista and Cena helped her to her feet. "You won! You won!" Cena was probably more excited than she was about it at that given point. Hell, she was so incoherent, she forgot Cena was supposed to be mad at her.

"I need to get backstage," she moaned, her ankle buckling. The guys grabbed her and helped her to the trainers office.

"You going to be okay?"

Wearing a pair of Batista's sunglasses to shield her bruising eyes, she nodded. "I guess I've taken worse." She was dressed in a black dress and had one of Cena's baseball jerseys draped over her shoulders. She had to admit, she felt comfortable in his jersey. Her ankle was bandaged and she wore flat sandals that she had borrowed from Torrie so she wouldn't have to struggle with her running shoes. Cena was walking her to her car, holding her duffel bags for her. "So, what's up with you and Batista?" she inquired.

"We'll talk about that a little bit later," Cena replied. "When we have the time and you're feeling better. But he wants you to manage us both."

"Oh, like a faction?"

"Yeah, like a faction. That is, if you're up to it. Or do you still hate me?"

"I don't hate you," she replied. "I don't think I could ever hate you." She smiled. "Next time, just come to me about these things so we can avoid this -" she motioned to her ankle, "...in the future.

"Now, Cena, I really need you to humor me. What the hell was the big deal with Orton running his mouth?"

He looked at her. They stood alone in an empty parking lot, and she was okay. He decided this was it. He was going to spill it all out and he wasn't going to leave her until she spilled it to. "Because I..."

She let out a shriek and she was pinned to the car within seconds. All Cena could see was a blonde. "Hey – get off her!" he shouted, pushing her off. "Can't you see the lady's hurt?" He helped a grimacing Mira to stand up straight.

The blonde was about five foot four with wide, crazy brown eyes. She ignored Cena's inquiry. "Oh, my God!" she exploded. "I totally knew you could beat Randy Orton because you are like the greatest Diva ever!"

"Um, can I help you?"

"I'm Amber Wall. I want an autograph. Oh, my God, I can't believe I'm standing here with Mira Barrera!" She thrust a piece of paper and a pen into Mira's hand. Cena was going to say something, but one look from Mira shut him up. He liked the look on her face. It was a look of sheer bewilderment with an impressed eyebrow arched. The sunglasses on her face didn't hide her eyes all that much.

She handed the paper back to Amber, who looked no more than fifteen. "Well, it's nice to meet you, Amber, but I have to go home."

"Oh." Her shoulders slumped in disappointment. "Well, I'll see you next week!" With that, she skipped off into the night.

"Oh, great, just what we need. Another Mickie James," Cena murmured. She laughed. She turned to Cena.

"Thank you so much for your help, Cena. You and I both know that the match would have gotten so much worse. Anyway, I'll see you next week." He nodded, and opened the car door for her. She climbed in and he closed the door behind her, flashing each other a warm smile before she drove off into the night.


	17. A Dead Contender

**Chapter Sixteen: A Dead Contender**

The match was over. It had been hard-fought, but John Cena had managed to trounce Edge like he was wrestling Spike Dudley. Edge lay curled in the fetal position in the ring as Lita checked on him, her chest miraculously staying within the confines of her low-cut black top.

Meanwhile at the top of the ramp, Cena held up the WWE Championship in an effort to gloat, while Mira pointed at the championship and Cena, as though to say, "These are mine." She had dressed in a white pantsuit with a pink stone belt hanging about her hips.

Cena stared at her, a wide smile crossing his face. Mira was smitten, but the last thing she was going to do was admit that. Suddenly, the lights went out.

"What the -"

"Cena?"

"What's going on?"

She heard a thump and she felt a hand grab hers. She thought it was John and she took solace with the fact that he wanted to keep her safe in the dark.

Then the lights came on.

John was laid out on the ground. Staring down at the black hand she looked up to see that she had not joined hands with the champion but had joined hands with...

...The Undertaker.

She tried to rip away, but he grasped his hand around her throat and started to drag her towards the back of her stage. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Mr. McMahon crying out, "Do it! Do it!" She screamed as she was raised up, but within seconds everything went black.

Cena came to surrounded by Carlito and Batista. "What the fuck?" he murmured, rubbing his temples as he sat up slowly. He looked around. "Mir...Mira!" he realized. "Where's Mira?" He noticed the uneasy looks on the faces of his cohorts and he said, "Guys..."

"She got chokeslammed by the Undertaker right off the stage," Batista explained. Cena closed his eyes and rubbed his temple.

"They rushed her to the hospital. One of the table rods cut her back up really bad and she hit her head on the landing."

"I have to get to her..." he replied, swinging his legs over the trainer's table. The guys knew better than to try and stop him and just watched as John rushed out the door.

The hospital doors slid open with a ding, and John rushed into the emergency room, instantly flocked by children. "Just give me a few minutes," Cena told them all politely, "and I'll sign all of your autographs," he replied.

"Is your manager okay?" asked one of the children, obviously having seen the show.

"That's what I'm here to find out," he replied. He saw a doctor and pushed away from the children to the doctor, a stern looking woman in a white jacket with a clipboard, her graying brown hair pulled back severely into a bun. "Excuse me?"

"Can I help you?" she asked.

"Yeah, my friend was brought in here...Mira Barrera..."

"She's the wrestler, right?" she inquired. John nodded. "She's okay. Been asking for you. You are John Cena, right?" He nodded. "Second floor, fifth room on your right."

"Thank you so much." He signed the autographs for the children and rushed to the elevator.

"Ahhh..."

"Shh," he assured her, stroking her hair. She was laid out topless on the bed as the doctors put twenty stitches into her side. She was sobbing from the pain, but trying to keep it quiet to the extent where her body ached and vibrated with sobs. He stroked her ruby hair. God, he loved her so much.

When the doctor finished, they taped it up with gauze and hospital tape and with Cena's assistance rolled her over. They were going to keep her overnight to monitor the concussion that she had sustained when she took the drop. The doctor left.

"I guess now would be the perfect time to get some things out in the open," Cena replied. She laughed.

"I'm on T3s, John, not truth serum." He smirked.

"Nonetheless, I want the truth from you, Mira. What was up with you and Batista? What is up? It's like he gets back and you two forget you're even together. He should be here right now, Mira. Not me. Tell me what I'm missing."

"Dave and I were never really anything," she confessed. "He came to me before the WrestleMania match and told me that if I helped him get the championship back that he never lost, then he would see to it that I'd be on my own with my contract..."

"Mira, I promised you I'd give it back..."

"But you were acting so...you were smothering me, John. And Dave asked me what made me think you'd just hand it to me. You'd have it all...not like you didn't wind up getting that in the end, you lucky bastard..." He smiled and sat down beside her.

"So you and Batista were never anything?"

"No. We're friends. Besides, he kisses like a fish." That prompted raucous laughter from Cena.

"I'll remember that for next time," he informed her. They fell silent.

"I'm assuming that Taker wants your title."

"Yeah," he replied. "Shane called it in. Said Vinnie Mac flew off the handle and he's backing the Dead Man." She groaned as a jolt of pain shot up her side. He hugged her close to him, resting his head on top of hers.

"Cena?"

"Yeah?"

"I love you."


	18. The Girl In The Casket

**Chapter Seventeen: The Girl In The Casket**

Several weeks later, Mira returned, in a sharp mood. She was sore, she was bitchy and she still had a pounding headache. But John was there for her, and so was Dave, the two men seemingly patching up things just for the sake of it.

She had dressed casually in an old Evolution shirt and jeans with her hair in a sloppy ponytail. She would have put more effort into looking like a Diva, but her stitches were just healing and she was still incredibly sore around the rib area.

She walked into John's locker room and he smiled when he saw her. "Mira, you're back," he replied graciously as she made her way to him for a hug. He hugged around her around the waist, trying to make sure nothing brushed up against her ribs. "You look fantastic."

"You're full of it," she murmured into his chest, and he laughed as he pulled back. "You carded tonight?"

"Yeah. I got Shawn Michaels," he told her. "You, on the other hand are going to stay back here?"

"You're kidding, right?"

"Sorry, Mira. You're still hurt. Last thing I want is the Undertaker pulling something on you, or you getting abducted again. No way. Stay back here. I won't be long anyway." She glared at him, but nodded defiantly. He gave her a kiss on the cheek. "I gotta run. See you after?"

"You know it," she murmured apathetically. With that, he walked out of the room to take part in his match.

The match was going really well. Cena and Shawn were going back and forth and the crowd really got worked up over it. Trading punches, high risk maneuvers, Cena and Michaels were making the main event of Raw into a piece of history.

Suddenly, the lights went out and Cena and Shawn stopped in the middle of the ring, mid-punch and turned to the TitanTron. The druids came out, six dragging a wooden casket down to ringside, the other six with torches and they slowly made their descent towards the two men in the ring.

Cena stared at Shawn, bewildered. "What did I do to deserve this?" asked Cena.

"You won the championship, my friend," Shawn replied, slapping Cena on the back. Cena groaned.

The druids placed the casket at ringside and they all made their way backstage. Cena turned to Shawn. "Think I should go check on it?" he inquired. Shawn shrugged.

"Might as well; I'm chalking this match up as a loss anyway," Shawn replied. Cena shot him a smile and got out of the ring. He could hear scratching and clawing on the door of the casket and quizzically, he flipped open the latch and pulled it open.

Mira screamed, fighting to get out of the coffin, surrounded by worms and spiders and she had been bitten a few times by the spiders. John pulled her out and started to brush her off. She was screaming hysterically and she clutched to him, hugging him, refusing to let him go as he and Shawn stared at the casket in horror.

Mira went dead silent. She hadn't spoken a word since Cena had pulled her out of the casket. He had taken her out for a coffee, but she hadn't uttered a word. He knew she wasn't all that mad at him; after all, he was just looking out for her best interests. She was moreso...traumatized by the idea of being stuck in a casket full of spiders and worms. She shuddered every now and then, still feeling the worms slithering beneath her and the spiders crawling up her.

"Wanna talk about it?" he inquired.

"What's there to talk about?" she quipped. "I got stuck in a casket."

They went silent again as he stared down into his coffee. "Mira, you know I was only trying to do what's best for you, right?"

"I know, Cena, but...God, why the Undertaker? Why does he have to keep doing this?" she inquired, her voice cracking. He put a comforting hand over hers.

"We'll deal with it and we'll get past it," he replied. "Undertaker's nothing but a contender, and when his chance at the title is up, then we'll be moving onto somebody else. Don't worry, Mira. Everything's going to be okay."

She stared up at him and nodded. But she wasn't sure if she believed it.


	19. A Terrible Fright

**Chapter Eighteen: A Terrible Fright**

The Fleet Center was emanating Raw live in Boston, and much to Mira's chagrin, she had reluctantly agreed to stay home. After the casket escapade, John didn't want anything happening to her and he felt her staying at home would keep her safe. She wasn't too sure about that, but she agreed anyway. He gave her that trademark smirk, the obligatory kiss on the forehead and he took off to the arena.

He made his way down to the ring and climbed in, demanding his music be stopped right away. "Undertaker!" he snapped, "You think you're a big man, locking Divas in caskets, attacking me from behind? Why don't you get your ass out here so we can handle this right now!" He waited, pacing ferociously around the ring, but not receiving the time of day from the Dead Man. "Undertaker, if I have to come back and find your ass, I'll do it. Come on out!" He waited some more and nothing happened. "That's it..."

The TitanTron flashed to the outside of Mira's home. John's blue eyes widened. He hoped her doors were locked. "John Cena...for months you have held that championship and not once have you kept it on your own. Maybe without your manager you will see why the dragons that lay siege to my kingdom fall to my reign." He saw the black gloved hand reach for the front door knob, but to his joy, the door was locked. "Maybe if I try the back..."

The monitor went out and John bolted from the ring, running up the ramp to the parking lot.

"Cena! Come on, let's go!"

Torrie's car peeled to a stop in front of him and he climbed in. "I can't get a hold of her," Torrie replied.

"That son of a bitch better not have her again!" Cena raged as they sped out into the highway towards Mira Barrera's home.

"Try not to panic, Cena, I'm sure everything is okay," Torrie replied. But even she wasn't so sure and he could sense that.

The car peeled to a stop in front of Mira's house, but Cena was already out, running towards the front door. He began to pound and pound and pound until finally Mira answered the door, dressed in nothing more than a blue silk robe, her hair obviously wet from the shower.

"Cena...what!" she exclaimed as he charged into her house, taking her with him. She almost lost her footing on the step in her house, but he caught her by the shoulders and began looking her over.

"He didn't get in here, did he?" He let her go and ran through the first floor of the house, looking for any sign of the Phenom.

"Cena, what the hell is going on?" Mira demanded. This was slightly confusing and the confusion was connected to her sudden annoyance.

"Undertaker was here!" he called back. Her eyes widened, and he realized that she hadn't been hurt.

"Oh, my God," Mira replied, her eyes conveying the emotion of horror. "He knows where I live?"

Cena nodded. "I'm afraid so. Torrie brought me over. She was calling..."

"That was her? I was in the shower." He stared down at her. She could sense his gaze on her. She rolled her eyes and gave him a slap on the arm, prompting him to jump in surprise. "Mind out of the gutter, champ." He smirked.

"You're such a wet blanket, you know that?" he inquired.

"You're just mad cause I'm a wet blanket that's not wrapped around you," she murmured, giving him a kiss. His hands rested on her waist, against the sash. She pulled back with a small, seductive smile tugging at her lips. He was about to make a comment back to her when Torrie Wilson walked into the house. She stopped, slightly uncomfortable by what she was seeing. She was pretty sure she was destroying a potential moment.

"Torrie, nice to see you," John replied loudly. Enough for both Torrie and Mira to get the idea and smile at each other conspiratorially.

"She's okay. I need to get back in time for my match, and so do you, John, so let's head out," she replied. Mira laughed.

"Go get Taker, champ," she laughed. With a kiss, he was gone, prompting Mira to lock the deadbolts and go upstairs, where she locked herself in her bedroom for the rest of the night, terrified at the idea that the Undertaker had actually learned where she lived and had even come to her place. She hoped that Cena would be there to protect her as much as he did last time.


	20. A Meeting with the McMahons

**Chapter Nineteen: An Important Meeting With The McMahons**

John Cena couldn't handle this anymore. Raw was airing live from the Hartford Civic Center in Hartford, Connecticut and John Cena had driven several hours to Stamford to meet with the McMahon family about this increasingly frustrating situation with the Undertaker. He was starting to fear for Mira more and more and now it was getting to an extent where Mira was starting to lose weight because she wouldn't eat. Last week, he had found her locker room ransacked, things thrown everywhere. They would have taken off with Mira, too, had Mira not opted to spend the night watching the show with Torrie, Candice and Victoria. Cena had never been more thankful for Torrie Wilson in his entire life.

Mira and Cena's relationship was also taking a beating with this entire situation. With their relationship being no secret, the Undertaker was zeroing in on Mira Barrera, and it led to several arguments between the two, brutal arguments that usually resulted in one hanging up or walking out on the other. Mira was a strong girl, John was a stubborn guy. That was all it could be accredited to. But at the end of the day, they made sure that everything worked out between them.

He had asked Mira not to come to this meeting with him. She was slightly upset about it, but she understood he had her best interests at heart and he was trying to keep her out of this as much as possible. She respected that and reluctantly agreed to stay home while he went to the meeting. They would meet up at the arena. Her ninety days of being his manager had long since gone up, but Mira had decided to stay on, much to Cena's joy and amusement. He had to admit, though, he absolutely hated it that people would be after her just because she's dating him. But she seemed down for it and he was all good with that.

He pulled open the glass doors and made his way to the top floor, where the McMahons office was located. The last time he had been here, Mira was pleading to be relieved of her General Manager duties. It was after she had been kidnapped. He still remembered her shaken demeanor as she stood in the elevator and tried to keep calm and composed. He loved how she always had to be the rock to everybody. She had to be the strong one and heaven forbid anybody saw another side of her.

The elevator doors slid open and John stepped out onto the main floor, staring around at the memorabilia hung up along the walls. All the WrestleMania posters, all the Survivor Series posters, Royal Rumble. He smirked as he walked past the 2004 Royal Rumble poster, which bore his picture on it. Black and white with the gold chain around his neck. He made his way to the receptionist and informed her that he was there for his appointment and took his seat to wait, reading a newspaper while he waited.

When Vince finally came out and ushered him into his office, John could feel a total fear sweep over him. But he sucked it up and walked into the locker room.

Mira sat in the Divas locker room when Mickie James walked in. "Hey, Mickie," she replied, standing up from her spot on the couch. Mira was still waiting to hear word from John.

Mickie looked at her. "I heard about the meeting."

"You did?" Mira asked incredulously. She hadn't even heard the results.

"Yeah. Cena came here and just locked himself in his locker room. Apparently he's a huge wreck right now. Wouldn't be a good idea to talk to him right now if I were you..."

"Well you're not," Mira teased. She walked out the door and down to John's locker room.

She walked in to find him laid out across the black leather couch in his locker room. She crouched down in front of him and he opened his eyes. "Meeting went that well?"

"I don't want to talk about it," John replied.

"Oh, come on, John. It couldn't have been that bad. Did you get the Undertaker at Survivor Series?"

"Yeah."

"Well, that's terrific! You got what you wanted, right?"

"In a Buried Alive match."


	21. Six Days to Survivor Series

_Next chapter is the finale!_

**Chapter Twenty: Six Days to Survivor Series**

John Cena was a dead man walking. At least that's how he made it look. Mira was slightly more optimistic, trying to keep John's spirits high. After all, in a track record of Buried Alive matches, the Undertaker's record was...well, lackluster for lack of a better term. That was the beauty of it. Cena had nothing to worry about, no matter how wide eyed and pale he looked while walking around.

The Divas were starting to get curious about their relationship, and while John was fighting off his fears of the Undertaker in a Buried Alive match, Mira was fighting off rumors of the two of them being together in a way that they hadn't been yet. She didn't understand why it was any of their business, but Candice couldn't keep her mouth shut about things that she knew nothing about. That led to Mira's first match since SummerSlam against Candice in hopes to make her shut up. Cena didn't seem to notice, and Mira came to the realization that the last thing she needed was to be worrying about him at ringside, so she opted to leave him backstage.

As the match commenced, Mira made short work of Candice. After all, Kurt Angle's only female student knew things more than Candice would. About halfway through the match however, the lights went out. Candice ducked out of the ring, Mira could sense it. Mira backed herself into turnbuckle.

But it didn't feel like a turnbuckle, and when the lights came on, she turned to find herself face-to-face with the Undertaker. Backing away, he grabbed her by the hair and set her up for the last ride. She felt herself being lifted higher for that severe drop, but Undertaker suddenly went down in a heap, with John Cena catching Mira before she hit her head on the canvas. She stared up at him, but he just straightened her up and continued stomping on the Undertaker. The Undertaker bolted from the ring, him and Cena yelling things back and forth to one another. In six days, they were going to meet in a Buried Alive match, whether or not John Cena liked it or not, but whatever happened, Cena proved a point:

He would be ready for it.

"Thanks for giving me a hand out there."

"Oh, yeah, Mira, I was going to leave you to take the Last Ride." He scoffed.

"You ready for the match Sunday?"

"Yeah. I'm going to kick his ass," Cena replied. "This is ridiculous." Mira nodded in agreement.

"He needs it."

"I know he does," Cena agreed, pulling into Mira's hotel. She wasn't into staying the night with him just yet. Sure, they'd been seeing each other for a while, but that's not a place Mira thought she was ready to go to just yet. He seemed fine with that...considering his schedule was so full, she doubted that that was the last thing on his mind at that particular moment.

"I'll see you Sunday, John," she replied.

"I'll see you then," he agreed and leaned over to give her a kiss. She smiled, opened the passenger side and got out of the car. She gave him a small wave as he drove off into the night. She turned around and went into her hotel. Survivor Series in six days, and that's when everything was either going to work out or go down in flames.

And she didn't know which one was going to happen. She could only go back up to her hotel and pray that John would emerge victorious and end the madness that had been plaguing them for the last several months. Everything had been so complicated since that night Kurt left and she met Cena on a major basis.

It had gotten complicated when they got attracted to each other and she made a mess of things. When she had jumped into the apathetic arms of Dave Batista, when she had cost Cena and Randy Orton the championship. If there was anybody that was good at needlessly complicating things, it was Mira Barrera.

She only hoped that she wouldn't repeat the same mistake again on Sunday.


	22. Buried Alive

**Chapter Twenty One: Buried Alive**

Survivor Series opened up with a thousand pyrotechnics raging through the Joe Louis Arena in Detroit, Michigan, home of the Detroit Red Wings. Jim Ross and Jerry Lawler, John Bradshaw Layfield and Michael Cole, Hugo Savinovich and Carlos Cabrera and Joey Styles and Tazz were all psyched, playing pass along with the commentating stuff in the opening introduction, each one boasting about their main events. All except for Hugo and Carlos anyway, for those two it was all good by them.

Backstage, John Cena was pacing a trench in his locker room. So far, Carlito, Randy and Batista had all stopped to wish him good luck. He was incoherent and apathetic, though. He could care less; the guys weren't about to partake in the biggest match of their career. Randy Orton and Shelton Benjamin were taking on Batista and Ric Flair, while Carlito was taking on Jeff Hardy and Johnny Nitro in a triple threat match. Nothing to the magnitude of a Buried Alive match.

He wasn't going to lie about it; he was terrified. He had spent all his time watching old matches of it, and even though Taker seemed to lose a lot of them, it was usually by cheating. For instance, Survivor Series 2003, Mr. McMahon enlisted the help of Undertaker's brother, Kane. He knew the Undertaker would come back, but Cena hoped that when he defeated – or if – the Undertaker, then the ordeal for him and Mira would be over.

There was a slight knock and Mira walked in. She looked beautiful. She was dressed in a pair of black cargos and a shimmering baby blue button-down T-shirt tied at the waist, her hair styled around her face elegantly.

"Mira."

"I thought I'd come and wish you good luck, not that you need it," she replied. He smiled and gave her a kiss. It seemed like such a desperate kiss, as though it would be the last one they would have for a long time.

She pulled back. "Would you calm down. You're going to be okay!"

He still didn't look all that convinced. "Trust me, John. I guarantee you a victory."

"Guarantee?" he asked. She nodded. "How you gonna do that?"

"Trust me." He stared at her intensely and she smiled. "And after you win..." she reached into her pocket and handed him the keycard to her hotel room. "Meet me at my hotel room and we'll celebrate." She gave him a kiss on the cheek. "See you after."

He stood, staring at the card as she let herself out. With a smile, he stuck it in the pocket of his denim shorts and got ready for his match.

Crunch time.

"The Time Is Now" blared throughout the arena and he stepped out from behind the curtain to a thunderous ovation from the fans. They liked the Undertaker, too, but with what he had been doing to Mira, people were starting to get creeped out. And they were happy to have John playing her knight in shining armor.

He slid into the ring and held the WWE Championship high in the air before surrendering it to the referee. The fans were going insane.

Then the lights went out.

The cameras were focusing on John's face, which was so clouded with fear that the most oblivious person could see it. The gong reverberated through the arena and the fans lit up their lighters as the Undertaker slowly sauntered through the fog, a vision of Gothic.

He climbed up the steps and rolled his eyes back, bringing up the house lights. Cena had his fists drawn and as the Undertaker climbed into the ring, he blindsided him, knocking the hat off his head, a flurry of leather flying from the cloak when he fell.

The referee called for the bell and Cena promptly brought the fight to Undertaker. Stomping, punching, kicking, anything that he could do, he did. The weaponry came out early and the Undertaker started to capitalize.

About twenty minutes into the brawl, John was split open, Undertaker was bleeding profusely and they were both up on the dirt mound, beating the hell out of each other.

Cena ducked a kick to the face and lifted Undertaker into the FU position, leveling him into the hole. Just then he heard a loud horn and moved out of the way as a backhoe parked in front, dropping the dirt into the hole, proclaiming John Cena the winner.

He stared at the backhoe in bewilderment as the door opened and a person came out, revealing...

...Mira Barrera.

He smiled and ran over to her giving her a kiss. The crowd exploded and she smiled. "I told you you'd win," she replied. The referee brought him his championship and she held his hand up high. Her chest was beet red under her shirt from hitting the steering wheel from the abrupt stop. She had gotten Batista to give her lessons on how to maneuver a backhoe several days before. She knew John was going to win this match if it killed her.

She dropped his hand as they got backstage. "You go get your stitches and I'll meet you at the hotel." He nodded, a hazy smile crossing his face and they separated ways.

Everybody was crowded around John Cena, congratulating him, and reveling in the fact that Mira had come to make the save for John Cena. When Batista brought up her name, he came to a wonderful realization to close off his night.

The keycard was still in his pocket; she was waiting for him.

With a wide smile on his face, he went back to his locker room and showered and changed. He quickly gathered his things and proceeded to leave the arena for what he could only describe as going towards the best night of his life.


End file.
